Asagao to Higanbana
by Madame Rhea Di'Ey
Summary: Hinata is an unpolished gem that will turn into the most brilliant diamond. Sasuke is the one who's been kept in the dark; nearly everything he thought he knew will prove to be lies. Orochimaru gets a headache because protecting Konoha is tough business. As for Itachi...poor weasel has the misfortune to be a common factor in their stories. [Rather AU. OMG - good Orochimaru.]
1. Prologue

**Title**: Asagao to Higanbana (Asagao = Morning Glory; Higanbana = Red Spider Lily. Following the language of flowers, the title translates to "Willful Promises and Lost Memories"...or it should)

**Rating**: T. Let there be language, huehue.

**Warnings**: This is absolutely NOT the Naruto universe you are used to. The Uchiha Massacre _did not _happen, Orochimaru never turned evil, the Akatsuki and him are not the bad guys, Sakura will actually be a pretty decent person, Hinata will be trained by Orochimaru and various other people - and she won't fucking stutter every two seconds. =.= Like honestly, why do people portray her like that? Anyhow. If you DO NOT like Hinata, or Itachi, or some of the kunoichi, don't read further. Because I suck up my own personal distastes and do not bash _anyone_, so you don't have the right to whine either.

I have taken out the romance genre because of two reasons: this story anyway didn't focus on it (it's mainly humor and action, tbh, but the intent it is to comb humor with drama) and because I was asked to start writing ItaHina / SasuHina "moments". **HINATA ****IS TWELVE** at the beginning of this, and so is Sasuke. Itachi is _e__ighteen_. You can't seriously ask me to write romance between kids. That's too sick even for someone as open-minded as me. (_edited as of 06.08.2013_)

**Pairings**: YahiKona (Yahiko x Konan), OroAnko (Orochimaru x Anko), TsuJira (Tsunade x Jiraiya), AsuKure (Asuma x Kurenai) (_note: list will be updated as the story progresses_)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Naruto. But this is how shit would have been if I did.

* * *

**Asagao to Higanbana**

**_Prologue_**

Yuuhi Kurenai pursed her crimson-painted lips together so thinly that the blood circulation was cut throughout them. She stared blankly into the stern, white eyes of Hyuuga Hiashi, willing the disgust she felt for the man wouldn't slip past her barriers. _Were Anko here, she would have given this man a not-so-pretty piece of her mind...I should have let her tag along_, she decided, momentarily distracted by the thought of her plum-haired friend. She would have insulted him herself, but that would have meant Hinata..."Are you sure you are serious about this decision, Hiashi-sama?" she asks, one last time, _just in case_.

Open up your eyes, you blind man.

"Are you in doubt, Ms. Yuuhi? I can always hand the custody to Utatane-san." the man inquired, smirking almost unseen. Kurenai bit the inside of her cheek to keep from lashing out.

"Of course I am not." she responded, eyes sliding over to the form of Hiashi's eldest daughter. Her head was bent, hands clutching one another tightly. Navy-indigo hair trimmed to perfection - not one fine hair out of place; she could bet even the fine hairs on the back of her neck were brushed -, a petite body; fragile, gentle. Obviously resembling her mother. Obviously, not fit in the cold, white eyes of the Hyuuga clan to be any sort of ruler. Bloody god, her own _father _deemed her more fit for a housewife than anything else on multiple occasions. And yet, she was two weeks away from graduating the Shinobi Academy; and the same cold man was giving her away without resent to a life of blood and guts and death, expecting her to die on her first missions. The nerve of that old slimeball...Her eyes softened considerably. She crouched down to be eye level with the girl. "What do you say about living with me, Hinata?"

The girl kept her head bent. "Please look up. Or I'll begin to think old age caught up with me and I've become scary-looking."

Slowly, the former Hyuuga heiress lifted her head up, the beginning of a smile on her white, chapped lips; she had been, undoubtedly, biting them. _A small smile is still better than nothing_. Hinata's eyes glimmered with unshed tears. "I-I'm fine w-with it, Kurenai-san." she assured.

_Is she trying to give me confidence or to build bravado for_ _herself?_, Kurenai wondered."Well, then. We can go now, if your father doesn't mind." the woman responded with a small smile of her own, holding out her hand for the girl to take. Hinata hesitated a second before sliding her small hand in hers. Hiashi scoffed.

"She's no daughter of mine." he murmured, turning to walk back inside the Hyuuga compound. He had said it loud enough for the girl to hear. Kurenai tugged on the girl's hand gently.

"Let's go." she whispered, and the girl nodded, adjusting her walk to the older woman's pace. Her head was bent again. She was losing a battle with herself in an attempt of saving some dignity; even she could feel the eyes of a hundred Hyuuga focused on their forms from inside the compound. "It's okay to cry, dear."

Hinata said nothing, just looked up at her, briefly, with a small smile and tears running down her cheeks. She nodded, wiping the traitorous trails off of her face with her free hand. "I k-know. B-but I don't...don't w-want to." the girl softly responded, looking towards the sky.

The evening sun's red brightness seemed mocking of her turmoil.

* * *

Uchiha Itachi entered the home he shared with his brother and mother (and, most of the time, with his best friend), slipping quietly out of his ninja sandals. He padded softly to the kitchen where his mother was busy with preparing dinner. Her glorious, navy hair spilled in matte, straight waves down her slender back, contrasting with the red of her shirt and completing the blackness of her pants. The bow of a pink kitchen apron was fit snugly atop her tailbone. She seemed almost too petite, bent over the stove, stirring a pot of soup or something else. Stew, maybe? He almost grimaced.

"Tadaima."

"Okaeri, Ita-chan~" Uchiha Mikoto replied, giving her eldest son a smile as she turned around, spoon in hand. "You're back earlier than you were expected." she noted, assessing his ANBU gear with a hint of a smirk. He smiled.

"Shisui made sure we finish early..." he shrugged, unclasping the straps of his breast plate and seating himself at the round dinning table with a quiet groan. His mother laughed in an unlady like string of snorts and chortles.

"God, that sounded simply wrong." she chided, still grinning, turning back to the stove where something was sizzling in a pan and was nearly burning. She took it off of the machine, sniffing with satisfaction the concoction. Itachi threw her a mock-glare.

"Mother, please contain yourself. It'll be no good if Sasuke takes in your ways." he retorted, stretching. His body ached from numerous hits; he'll have to pass by the hospital tomorrow; can't really live up to the Uchiha name if he dies 'cause his back hurt him to death, can he?

"My ways?! Son, that is no way to speak to the one that gave you life!" the Uchiha matriarch gasped, pointing the decidedly wooden spoon at him. "'sides, Sasu-chan is too uptight to be anything like me."

"...we both know Sasuke takes after me...are you suggesting I am uptight?"

"Precisely, son. Precisely."

Itachi sighed in defeat. "Speaking of Sasuke, where is he?"

"Training somewhere. I think he is with Kushina's son." Mikoto responded, turning the stove off and mixing something she had thrown in the pot with the already there thick substance. "Help me set the table."

"I just hope they won't end up being a team...one generation of Uzumaki-Uchiha is more than enough." her son murmured, rummaging through a cabinet for plates and bowls.

"We made a good combo!" his mother cried out, bobbing him lightly on the forehead with the spoon.

"And you were scary." the man responded, unfazed. He set down the stack of porcelain, pursing his lips at the ever-vacant space created by the absence of a fourth chair. Shisui really needed to come by more often. _He's probably snoring in the bathroom by now. I can count on the fingers of one hand the times he sleeps in a bed, or cot, or futon, like a normal person, _he reminded himself, shaking his head ever so slightly.

"I cannot deny that..." the navy-haired woman responded, feigning anger quite unsuccessfully. "But it's not nice of you, nonetheless."

"Gomen." Itachi smiled, kissing his mother's cheek in apology. She ruffled his hair.

"'s fine. Go take a shower; Sasuke should be home any minute now, and we won't wait for you~!"

He laughed. "Hai, hai, Mikoto-taichou." he mock-saluted, taking his armor with him upstairs. True to his mother's prediction, his younger brother arrived home a few minutes later, giving a small, nowadays somewhat rare smile at the sight of the dinner menu.

The red sun that had just went down beyond the hill had a color that matched perfectly both the tomatoes Sasuke ate and the Uchiha fan adorning their backs.

* * *

**Author's Footnote**: How was it? Bad? Good? Did it pick your interest? Come on, lemme know~


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: So...here goes nothin'.

* * *

_The red evening sun had just set over the horizon line; nonetheless, the full, chalk-white moon glowed peacefully high in the navy sky. A myriad of bright, faraway stars shone like glitter spilled on silk all around the night's celestial body, their light giving an eerie gleam to Konohagakure's landscape. Grasshoppers were singing in the vast clearings, frogs joining the melody from within the lake's domain, and from within the rivers that ran through the village like liquid crystal veins. Fireflies buzzed and owls hooted in the distance, loud and yet quiet in their heated conversations man will never comprehend._

_Aided by lamplight, Orochimaru was hunched over his old writing desk. Inside the vast library hidden beneath his impressive home no sun had ever entered. Frowning, he scribbled down notes, rolling and unrolling various scrolls as he breezed through information he had read countless times – really, he himself didn't knew why he bothered. They wouldn't randomly spur new knowledge if he stared hard enough at them every time he couldn't seem to fall asleep. "Should have let Tsunade-hime get me some sleeping medicine." he uttered, tired and yet wide awake. He sighed, long black hair falling in waves of ink down his back, contrasting deeply with the cream-colored haori he wore over his sleeping pants and bare chest. Marigolds were scattered across the entirety of the silk garment, deep yellow trimming completing the look. The beige pants almost seemed an extension of his skin in the right light. The Snake Sannin rubbed his eyes, biting back another sigh before he could let it out._

"_You wouldn't be you if you weren't a chronic insomniac, sensei." a distinctly feminine voice rung through the chamber, a sweet echo softly punctuating the phrase. Orochimaru looked up at his unannounced visitor. A petite woman was standing at the entrance, dressed in black trousers that ended at her ankles and a turtlenecked, black shirt. The lower part of her face, as well as her head was wrapped in a navy-colored scarf which she pulled back and let fall around her throat as she slowly stepped up to stand before the man. She looked as distressed as one can look.  
_

"_Youko," he acknowledged with a nod. "What's wrong?" he asked, leaning back in his seat. Her face colored at the sight of his top – or lack thereof. She coughed awkwardly, looking to the side.  
_

"_I...have a request to ask of you." the Hyuuga woman whispered, fidgeting. Her violet-indigo hair was pulled back in a low, loose ponytail, and it swished as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.  
_

_It shone in the eerie oil-lamplight. "And this request is?" the older shinobi inquired, patient as ever, his voice a whisper matching hers.  
_

"_I'm pregnant." she confessed, a hand automatically shooting out to rest on her still-flat belly. "And I'm...afraid. There are **so** many what ifs..."_

_He swallowed audibly, all tiredness suddenly leaving his body. Oh boy. He was so **not **fit for this type of conversation. He felt the need to run away, perhaps fetch Tsunade as he went. Still, he remained rooted on the spot, blinking up at the petite lady much like the owls that hooted in the distance._

_A teacher's got to do what a teacher's got to do: be there for their student._

_...right?_

* * *

**Asagao to Higanbana**

_**Chapter**_** One**

Orochimaru stared at the folder laid on the table in front of him, his head supported by his left palm. The written information of the file he was reading blurred out, his focus falling on the meek girl displayed by the icon- style photograph attached with a paperclip to the pristine white paper. Her smile was reserved; all information obviously pointed to her kind, _soft_ nature. Not fit to be a ninja, no; the housewife type was the category in which Hyuuga Hinata fell.

But...

It was always this type of person that ascended to greatness. Testimony to that stood many exceptional shinobi, the most well-known out of them being the Fourth Hokage. Previous students of his own confirmed this - save for Anko, bless her soul; that one had been boisterous from the beginning; yelled out she'll make all of Kirigakure tremble only when her name was uttered. She was rather successful at making that particular wish come true. The image of a eggplant-indigo-violet-purple-something haired girl with pale, pale Hyuuga eyes (that weren't stone white or gray-edged; no, no, they were lavender, alright) came to mind, her fears and her insecurities and the promise he'd made her making the man gave a soft grunt. Orochimaru's golden eyes slid over to his former teacher. The wrinkled man was staring at him as if waiting for an opinion, lazy clouds of smoke rising from the pipe tucked in the corner of his mouth. "She fits a tracker type. Long-ranged combat is accessible for her; rather fitting, ironically so, if you ask me." he gave on at long last, gaze falling again on the picture of the former heiress of the Hyuuga clan. Utatane Koharu scoffed across from him.

"That girl fits anything but a kunoichi! I cannot understand how did she even graduate in the first place. She will most likely die on her first C or B rank mission."

His golden irises slid partly on her wrinkled, aged form, narrowing lightly until it looked like he was squinting. Tsunade sighed next to him, shaking her blonde head. Jiraiya mildly glared at the elderly woman. "You shouldn't underestimate the girl, Koharu. With proper training, she will be a great addition to Konoha's forces." Sarutobi Hiruzen commented gruffly, responding before any of his pupils could. It was rare that the Sannin agreed on something. His black eyes focused on Orochimaru. "Considering that I happen to agree with you, Hinata Hyuuga will be placed on Team Eight with Inuzuka Kiba and Aburame Shino." he decided, promptly scribbling the assignment in the thick record book that took up a good chunk of the table space.

"Who are you assigning as their instructor, Sensei?" Tsunade inquired, non-characteristically curious. The old man gave a wry grin.

"Yuuhi Kurenai. She is a very sensible kunoichi. A fitting role model for our young flower...and a maternal figurehead for all three genin."

Orochimaru blinked at this announcement, frowning mildly a moment later. "She _is_ rather worthy of mention; her genjutsu skill is impressive; second only to Uchiha Itachi in all Konoha. Her other skills are not so properly groomed, though – to say the least. I doubt the girl can develop properly under her care." he rasped out, silencing Koharu with a glare when she opened her mouth to retort with some verbal injury towards the twelve-years-old girl. He looked back down at the picture, wondering how to go about this issue.

"What are you suggesting?" the Third and acting Hokage inquired, leveling a glance at his former apprentice.

"I would like to train her. Separately from the teamwork she will be doing with Miss Yuuhi, of course." the snake-like man responded after a moment o silence, smirking at the surprise all present displayed. Mitokado Homura was the first to recover.

"That is outrageous, Orochimaru! If you desire to pick a new student, then at least consider a more worthy one! Someone from the Uchiha clan, perhaps that Sasuke boy would-"

"Oh? So _now_ the Uchiha are worthy? Need I remind you that a few years ago _I _had to save the entire clan from your foolishness?" the Snake Sannin abruptly cut the old man off, eyes closing to hide his annoyance. "Need I remind you, Homura, Koharu, that this attitude of yours nearly brought ruin upon Konoha? Refrain from speaking when your opinion is not requested. I alone decide who I take under my care."

The afterward silence was deafening. While cruel, the black-haired man's words were true. Koharu averted her gaze as Homura lowered his. Hiruzen sighed, rubbing his temples. Tsunade refilled her cup with sake instead of tea, passing afterward the bottle to a quiet Jiraiya.

"Very well. I will inform both Kurenai and Hinata of your decision, Orochimaru – or would you rather deliver the news yourself?" the Third asked, and was met with open air. He chuckled.

"He's always been an odd one." Jiraiya commented from his spot between Tsunade and Homura, bringing the sake cup to his lips, his copy of the file with the recently-graduated generation of shinobi open on the page of the very much blonde, very much ambitious Uzumaki Naruto. Orochimaru wasn't the only one with a promise to keep, it seems.

* * *

Crimson eyes focused on the chicken breasts her hands were slicing neatly, identically red-painted lips lowly humming a popular tune. Kurenai Yuuhi deposited the shaped meat in a bowl on the left of the cutting board, picking up another chunk for slicing. The young woman was preparing the main ingredient for schnitzels. On a stool to her right, Hinata Hyuuga was busying herself with preparing the semi-liquid egg coat the meat will be run through, as well as the condiments that will form the crispy crust of the meal. The twelve-years-old girl felt rather hungry. The doorbell of the three-bedroom apartment rung, causing them to still for a second.

"In a moment!" Kurenai called out, turning to look at Hinata. "Would you mind getting that? It's probably just Asuma. He did say he'd drop by for dinner."

"A-alright, Kurenai-san." the girl nodded, rinsing her hands on a fluffy, green towel laying on the counter. She hopped off of the stool, a skip in her step as she shuffled to answer the door.

If there was a thing she had come to understand since she had been appointed as the former heir of the Hyuuga clan and new ward of the beautiful jonin and thus moved in with the woman, was that she and Asuma Sarutobi, the son of the Third Hokage, were very much _an item_ – or so Ino commented – and that he was not a rare occurrence around the cozy apartment. She didn't mind; the man was very nice to her.

Thus, her surprise was not that little when instead of his friendly, grinning face, she was met with the sight of a slightly curious, but rather sickly face of a man with long black hair. She blinked up at him, peering at his towering form through the half-open door. She forced out a half-smile. "Y-yes?" the young kunoichi inquired, lavender eyes staring into intimidating, gold ones with surprising boldness.

"You must be Hinata Hyuuga. This does cut my errands short..." the man mused, smirk-smiling down at her. He didn't particularly fancy going to the Hyuuga Compound, and he had forgot, in his rush, to learn where she currently resided. Luck is on his side, it seems. The prospect of a new trainee was exciting. Now only to make her accept. But of course she'll accept...

...right? "Is Kurenai Yuuhi home?" he added as an after-thought of his musings. The indigo-haired girl nodded timidly. She was obviously taking after her mother.

"H-hai..." she voiced the worded equivalent of her action, pausing as realization instilled. She flushed, and then all color drained from her features. "U-um, Orochimaru-sama...w-would you like to get inside?"

He smiled at her antics. They were...dare he say it? _Cute_. She blinked at him shyly, and he nodded. Stepping out of his way, she invited him inside the modern, stylish home of Kurenai Yuuhi.

"Hinata-chan? What is taking you so-" said woman's voice rung out just as the indigo-haired girl closed the door behind their unlikely guest. Appearing in the doorway of the kitchen, the red-eyed woman's mouth formed a small "o" before clamping shut. "Orochimaru-sama." she acknowledged with a small nod and bow. "This is...a surprising visit. To what do I - we - owe the pleasure?"

"I am afraid I came on business purpose." the man replied, smirking out of pure habit. "Let's have a seat, shall we?"

"Surely. But I must warn you we were in the middle of making dinner; we have to invite you to the kitchen this once." Kurenai responded, smiling herself in somewhat surprise. Orochimaru wasn't exactly a social butterfly, to be gentle when wording his downright tedious social skill. Hinata watched their exchange, unsure of what to do. The man nodded with a small, almost microscopic, smile, allowing the dark-haired kunoichi to lead the way. He seated himself on a stool at the counter, helping the young girl settle onto hers next to him. His host turned to a pan in which meat sizzled, flipping three pieces to fry on the uncooked side. "I doubt an esteemed Sannin has come here to watch me prepare a meal." she piped up, still standing, disliking the borderline awkward silence that had ensued in her home.

"I came to inform you of the genin cell you were assigned to, actually." the man said, his smile morphing in the trademark devious smirk. "The reason I came personally is because I have an interest in one of these three genin."

"Oh?" the new information made the woman offer him her undivided attention. Orochimaru was on the lookout for a new student?

"Your new team consists of: Inuzuka Kiba – and his ninken, Akamaru -, Aburame Shino and Hyuuga Hinata." he recited, carefully keeping a blank face. "The genin I have an interest in, and a desire to take under my tuition, and possibly full-time care, is Hyuuga Hinata."

Hinata gaped at him. Her mind went, for a few moments, blank.

Why on _Earth _did a Sannin want to train _her_? It made no damn sense. She wasn't anything special. Her five-years-junior sister was capable of beating her in a match, for Buddha's sake! She was virtually powerless, with only a pair of eyes as her single prized possession. A pair of lavender eyes most considered wasted on someone as _weak_ as her. Why? Just, bloody _why_?

Orochimaru's amusement regarding her reaction didn't go unnoticed. Kurenai stared at him skeptically. "Well?" the man prodded.

Hinata continued to stare. "Do you accept, Hina-chan?" he asked, already rudely familiar with her. Not sure of anything at this point, she nodded, dumbly, like the slow child her father often accused her of being. The golden-eyed man beamed at this.

"Excellent," he grinned maniacally, "These news will be made public when Sensei will announce the teams tomorrow. I will be present together with the other two Sannin – I have a feeling both the fool and Tsunade-hime consider having a new student to train themselves. We aren't getting any younger, and its' best to leave as much as we can behind. Before it is too late."

Hinata still wondered why her, out of all people, but she knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth or question her dumb luck at this point in life.

* * *

"Members of Team Seven are: Uzumaki Naruto;" Umino Iruka read, the Third Hokage seated at his desk, Jirayia and Orochimaru flanking him. Tsunade was standing on the Academy teacher's right. "Haruno Sakura," he paused as Naruto's victorious yell rung out, "and Uchiha Sasuke. Your teacher will be Hatake Kakashi."

Hinata drowned out the banter of the three new teammates, eyes down cast and mind wandering elsewhere. _Naruto-kun must be happy. He got to be on the same team as Sakura-san. _The formality went on, announcing her presence on Team Eight and her comrades. She gave a small smile to both a grinning Kiba and an expressionless Shino. She petted Akamaru tentatively as the small dog hopped out of its' owner jacket and onto her desk space. In turn, the white pup licked her hand, causing her to let out a small, breathy giggle. As Iruka finished specifying who is in which team, he called for the attention of the aspiring shinobi once more. "Alright, class! There is one more thing you will be informed of before you will officially be freed of the Academy's confines...Sarutobi-sama, if you will."

The Third Hokage rose, hands clasping atop one another on his cane. He lightly tapped it against the floor. "As you all must be aware, the three "strangers" I have brought with me are the Legendary Sannin – the shinobi I have helped shape whilst they were in their youth, much like you are right now. Deciding to follow my example, they have too assumed apprentices throughout the years. All have grown to be powerful nin – one example known to you all is the late Fourth Hokage." the man begun his speech, his rasped voice demanding silence through its' serious tone. "Once more, my former students begin to consider training members of the new generation. One of them, namely Orochimaru, has already decided on who he wanted to train – once more, he has picked a kunoichi to inherit his teachings."

The grin on his features was more a smirk now. "Prove your worth, young shinobi – two Sannin have yet to take a pick. And while the Snake of the trio is an exclusive card, these two actually show leniency..." the Hokage gruffed, earning a few giggles and a pout on two of his former students' part.

Sarutobi smiled. "That's all, children. You're free to go and enjoy a beautiful summer afternoon." he called the closing, making his way around the mahogany desk with a nod in Iruka's general direction. The chunin nodded back, watching the four elite shinobi make their way up on the stairs and towards the exit

"Wait wait!" a girl called out, a wicked grin on her lips. "Who is going to be trained by Orochimaru-sama?" her tone was arrogant. The dark-haired Sannin paused, partly turning to look at the class.

"My apprentice is Hyuuga Hinata." he responded to the violet-haired girl before making his way out the door and catching up with his former teacher and teammates.

Said indigo-haired girl wished he would have simply walked out when thirty sets of eyes turned to stare at her, Iruka's curious glance counting in favor of the round number.

"Why would he pick _her_? She is a failure. Orochimaru must be becoming senile." the girl who had asked chimed, before rising to throw a mocking glance to the meek girl.

Funny how her thoughts matched Hinata's...

"Jealousy is an ugly trait in women, Ami." Yamanaka Ino piped in, earning a nod of agreement from her former friend, Haruno Sakura.

"She ranked third, and that only because she was beaten by Sasuke-kun in taijutsu and ninjutsu with a few points. She has potential." the pinkette informed, moving her eyes from the girl to the pale boy, and then back to the indigo-haired girl. She gave Hinata a friendly smile.

The meek girl said nothing, choosing instead to look down at her hands, her cheeks flushed with her famous, perpetual blush.

_If only the ground could open up and swallow me_...

* * *

**Author's Footnote**: How was it? Bad? Good? Did it pick your interest? Come on, lemme know~


	3. Chapter 2

"_I somehow can't bring myself to acknowledge that Youko is dead." Mikoto whispered, tears falling from her black eyes. Fugaku wrapped an arm around his wife._

"_Truthfully, me neither." he whispered back, wiping the tears away from her face with his free hand's thumb. "That woman was too stubborn to let herself die."_

_Mikoto chuckled, weakly. "She was, wasn't she? But childbirth accidents are something no one can foresee." she rasped, eyes fixating in the distance on the form of Hyuuga Hiashi. A small baby girl wrapped in a soft, pink blanket rested in his arms. His eyes were glued to his late wife's coffin, his other daughter holding tightly onto his robes. For once, the uptight man didn't seem to mind his perfect attire was ruined, creases forming as his eldest clutched the silk tightly.  
_

_Sasuke's grip on his elder brother's hand tightened, his expression sour as his eyes were searching the lost-looking face of Hiashi's daughter. "She looks so...sad."_

_His mother smiled down at him. "Do you want us to go say hi later, Sasu-chan?" she asked, detaching herself from her consort. The boy nodded enthusiastically._

…

_Hiashi watched his eldest daughter smile shyly at the two sons of Fugaku and Mikoto Uchiha. Itachi looked out of place among the colorful flowers of the Hyuuga compound's large gardens; on the other hand, Sasuke and Hinata looked at home. He couldn't make out what they were smiling about, but the older boy had to deal with a tickling attack moments later. Hiashi frowned._

"_It's alright to let them play, Hiashi." Mikoto noted from behind him, the smile on her lips not quite reaching her eyes. He scoffed._

"_After a funeral? I hardly think so." he noted, earning a roll of eyes from the woman. He knew Fugaku would have agreed, was his wife not there._

"_They are children, Hiashi. Let them enjoy the peace and quiet before we give them to the way of the blade."_

"_I have to agree with Mikoto this once." the stern Uchiha head commented, grimacing for a moment. "Who knows how long this peace will last?"_

_He looked like he knew something. Before he could continue, his wife spoke, eyes smiling fully as she watched her eldest child hold Sasuke and Hinata on either knee. _

"_It's good to see my two boys bond quickly with Youko's pride and joy." her wise eyes didn't miss the girl's father stiffening. She smirked. "Who knows? Maybe one day we'll have Uchiha-Hyuuga babies running around~! Youko always fancied the idea."_

"_I think you mean Hyuuga-Uchiha, Mikoto-san." Hiashi corrected, a certain reluctance at the idea in his voice._

* * *

**Asagao to Higanbana**

_**Chapter Two**_

A gentle breeze swept over the clearing, brushing the green grass of the forest and caressing the leaves of various oak and maple trees. Hinata breathed in the fresh air, rejoicing in being out on such a lovely morning. Training with Orochimaru was a surprisingly enjoyable, if sometimes tedious, activity. He worked her until she nearly passed out, but always healed her afterward with his own hands - "I trust no one with my pupil" were his words when she had asked why. They had just finished the morning warm-up and her accuracy training - he had discovered her liking for senbon - settling in the grass for a quick snack; she felt the need to giggle when she saw the contents of his bento. Eggs. She picked up her last piece of onigri, watching as the snake-like man dabbed his mouth with a paper napkin to wipe all remains of their second breakfast. He pulled out two pieces of paper from his robes, handing her one of them once she was done eating.

"What do you know about ninjutsu, Hinata?" he questioned, having yet to explain the paper's role. She furrowed her eyebrows; she had learned not to question him in the weeks he had been training her for.

"N-ninjutsu is the tangible form of the ninja arts, as opposed to genjutsu where the user creates i-illusions. It generally refers to the usage of chakra, channeled by the user in order to perform things they are not normally able to." she recited, trying to summon up the teachings from their second-year manual. Orochimaru nodded in approval, both at her description and at her lessened stutter.

"Things like?"

"U-um. Like transforming themselves, producing clones and the like. At more a-advanced levels, they are able to give their chakra an elemental transformation and perform nature-based j-jutsu."

"Excellent." he praised, pleased. "What do you know about elemental transformations?"

"They usage depends from p-person to person and the nature tends to be genetic; for example, most Uchihas have a f-fire release. They are dubbed "nature releases". T-the basic elements are Wind, Fuuton, Water, Suiton, Fire, Katon, Earth, Doton, and Lightning, Raiton. Combinations of them form certain n-new elements that are a particularity and come often as k-kekkei genkai."

"Very good. I didn't know they are so in-depth at explaining ninjutsu in the academy."

The girl chuckled.

"They a-aren't, actually. K-kurenai-sensei explained it to us in our first l-lesson as Team Eight."

"Did she explain the concept of affinity or tested it for any of you?"

The girl shook her head. "I-iie."

Orochimaru nodded. "Very well. Every ninja has a certain, primary affinity for one of these five elements you just stated. In time, you can learn new types – by the time you will reach the rank of Jonin, you will be able to use at least two types of nature release. Today, we will find out what your affinity is." She blinked, attentive. "Activate your Byakugan," the Sannin instructed; once she did so, he lifted the piece of paper he was holding focused chakra into it. The paper ignited and turned to ash in his grasp. Hinata's mouth dropped into an "o". "This means my affinity is for fire."

Hinata brought up the hand in which she was holding her square of paper. She imitated her teacher's example, her perfection with chakra control a natural example of how good the Hyuuga were. The paper wrinkled. Orochimaru's eyebrows rose. "W-what does this mean, Sensei?"

"It means you will be getting some training from Tsunade thrice a week, my dear."

* * *

"You want me to _what_?" the blonde woman dumbly prodded, half-sober. Her black-haired companion sighed, rolling his eyes.

"I want you to tutor Hinata in Raiton techniques." he repeated himself, drinking green tea from his cup, grimacing at the somewhat bitter taste.

"Alright...but why?" the blonde blinked, caramel eyes rather hazy. Her assistant poured her some medicine in a glass. "Thank you, Shizune."

"Because I want her to be as strong as possible, as fast as possible." Orochimaru replied, sipping quietly. Tsunade snorted.

"You're such a slave-driver." she accused, pointing her index finger at him. Electricity zapped around the tip, soft gold sparkles filling the air. "But fine, I will."

"Thank you." the man smiled, a rare occurrence. "Now that that's solved, I only need to find her a taijutsu trainer..."

The blonde laughed. "I can cover that as well." she grinned.

* * *

"Again!" Itachi yelled, his stance prepared to defend. His younger brother grumbled, but followed the command.

"Katon: Goukakyuu no Jutsu!"

Sasuke spit out a great current of fire, feeling both good at the accomplishment and somewhat annoyed as his brother's body molded into crows and flew away.

"Good job." the older male praised, patting his head affectionately. The boy's cheeks colored.

"Tch." he huffed, arms crossing over his chest. Behind them, someone laughed.

"You live up to the Uchiha name, Sasu-chan~" a man about the same age as Itachi commented, grinning.

"Stop it with the nickname, Shisui. You know Sasuke doesn't like it." the eldest brother chided, immune to his best friend's hurt-puppy look.

"I'm not a girl, of course I don't like it." the boy huffed, silencing Shisui with a glare. "My mother is an exception because she is _my mother_...not my brother's idiot-friend."

Uchiha Shisui put a hand on his heart. "Your words hurt me, Sasuke-chan."

"Can I go now, nii-san?"

"Yeah. Take care, ototou."

They watched the boy run away in a sprint. Itachi extended a hand. "Pay up. I told you he'd learn it within a day."

"I hate you when you're right, you know?" Shisui groaned, rummaging through his pockets for money. His junior smirked.

"Dully noted, senpai."

They walked out of the training grounds at a leisure pace, hands in pockets and eyes faraway. "Say, Itachi..."

"Hm?"

"I heard about Hinata-chan today."

The man blinked. "What?"

"Hiashi-sama seemingly threw her out. She lives with Kurenai, currently. And Orochimaru apparently took her under his wing."

"Shisui?"

"Hm?"

"Don't tell my mother."

"...er, about that..."

* * *

Tsunade's hands were enveloped with a stream of healthy, blue chakra. It glowed vividly, waving slightly, like a flame bearing the sky's color. Orochimaru waited patiently at the side of the training court in his backyard, sipping tea, Shizune at his side with a wooden tray resting in her lap. Hinata's eyes were rimmed by bulging veins, the infamous Byakugan watching the female Sannin perform. "Exhibit chakra; it's almost like performing one Jyuuken strike, I suppose," the blonde woman supplied, shrugging. Hinata nodded, the explanation not far from the actual truth. "Now give it _nature_. Feel it. It's in you, running through your veins and bathing every fiber in it. Let it flow out in the stream; utter its' name. It helps." she further instructed.

Following the instructions she herself gave out, she made a demonstration. The chakra around her fists stretched to her forearms, the eerie blue becoming white with violent arctic shadowing at the edges. Lightning cried in the evening sky, like sparrows chirping early in the morning. Hinata's eyes widened, her mouth dropping in a small "o" of amazement.

Tsunade grinned. "It's nice, isn't it?" she asked. The girl nodded enthusiastically. "Care to try?"

Hinata visibly deflated. She was so sure she'd disappoint. Orochimaru frowned. So _that's _what stopped her; what stood in her way. The lack of proper self-confidence. Her humility had to go; kindness, he didn't mind. Modesty was a nice trait, to. But humility, no, never. Her inferiority complex was a thorn in the side of her career. Her father gave her to the life of death; Orochimaru decided she'd survive this foolish choice.

"Try, Hinata. You already have the first part under control; it comes to you as easy as breathing. Nature, as the name suggests, is permanently in you. Think of a bolt of lightning, of a thunderstorm. Close your eyes and say, _I can do it_." he encouraged, his rusting gold eyes shimmering in the sun's light. Hinata glanced him, and with a small smile, nodded.

Trying never killed anyone, afterall.

She closed her eyes, the Byakugan still active. Orochimaru insisted she kept it on at all times during training; it'll help your stamina, he said. She didn't dare argue - he obviously knew better. The chakra streamed out of her pores, blue and healthy and young, the movement embedded so deeply in her senses she could probably do a Jyuuken strike while sleepwalking. Imagine a thunderstorm, he said...

She imagined it. The deep charcoal clouds hiding the cerulean sky, thunder rumbling through their depths. She felt the roar of the sky reverberating through her body, and she visibly shuddered. Three pairs of eyes were focused on her, she was very much aware, but she strangely couldn't bring herself to flush at the attention. She focused on the storm she was _feeling_. There it was - lightning struck through the atmosphere, a mere sizzle sound accompanying it. A roar of thunder, strong and coming anew, followed the beautiful bold of violet-blue edged white. She imagined it, this wonderful show of natural prowess, this display of raw natural fury. She imagined this - this part of her which her chakra said existed, shying away in a dark, dark corner.

She willed the beast to be free.

And then, her eyes saw.

Her hands, small and dainty and plain and coated in blue unburning fire, were suddenly lit by another kind of force. The chakra pouring out in a steady, calm rhythm took an edge. And it suddenly wasn't just simple life force anymore. Suddenly it wasn't generic, something common in all which had chakra. Suddenly it was that primal part of her, combing and braiding with her plainness, with everything else she stood for. Suddenly, it was her life force that glew.

Suddenly, her hands were bursting with speckles of lightning, their mass increasing with each passing beat of her heart.

And her eyes opened, blinding light not deterring her sight at all. It wasn't as impressive as Tsunade-sama's display; not really. She had a moment's doubt she will ever look as fierce and as powerful as the older woman, but her teacher's words echoed in her mind. She could do it. She could do it. She could.

And so, she stood there, her arms lifting on their own accord for her gaze to freely inspect. It wasn't perfect, not really, but it was a starting point.

She saw Orochimaru smile and nod from a distance, Tsunade crossing her arms beneath her sizeable bust and smirking her agreement. It was a starting point and they were satisfied with it. She felt relief and something foreign, akin to happiness and pride, burst through her pores, forcing the timid lightning coating her superior limbs to increase in course and mass, in speed and sound. Such an eerie feeling, this one...

"Excellent," the dark-haired Sannin almost purred, "truly excellent."

And the praise and the exhaustion must have been a little too much, because little Hinata dropped to the grassy garden floor with a dull thud, her lightning dying in time to not lit the estate on fire. Orochimaru chuckled, shaking his head.

For a first try, it truly was excellent.

Now, if only he could work on this fainting problem of hers and on expanding her stamina in cases of chakra exhaustion exposition. They had a long, long way to go...but it was going to be manageable, he guessed. And her adaptability, coupled with her intelligence and willing obedience were going to shorten this journey, he had a foretelling feeling.

* * *

**Author's Footnote**: Yes, I made Hinata's nature affinity for Lightning. You mad, bro? I'm tired of her being given Water in nearly all fics. Yes, she uses the Water Needle technique, but it is not a use of Suiton; she merely focuses chakra into water like Gaara focuses chakra into sand (most likely). She's a Hyuuga, they are masters at chakra controlling and chakra flow; I don't think it would be a hard task for her.

So...How was it? Bad? Good? Did it pick your interest? Come on, lemme know~.


	4. Chapter 3

_Veins bulged around the woman's lavender, pupilless eyes; the mighty Byakugan, all-seeing and forever blind all the same, shone in the dark night with a patient predator's gleam. Hyuuga Youko waited, confounded with the shadows in her armored ANBU getup. Twin moons for eyes focused, their range one of the mightiest, and the purple-haired woman couldn't help but sweat beneath her Lion mask._

"_Sixty-one meters ahead of Tiger. Twenty-four meters to Deer's right." she informed quietly over the communication channel, whispering into the microphone strapped to her shirt.  
_

"_Got it." Tiger murmured, her body moving swiftly without smoke. With red Sharingan blazing like suns, the fierce Uchiha woman quietly assassinated several of the target's guards without being spotted. Before they could get a grasp on what was happening, Deer's shadows immobilized all enemies. Patting the Nara man on the back, Youko stepped into the scarce moonlight, the few torches that were lit giving her an ill-foreboding appearance when creepy dark lines begun to spider on the porcelain mask she wore. The woman unsheathed her katana in one swift motion, Tiger joining her with no visible weapon on display._

"_Leave none alive." Lion commanded, absent-minded, her sword bisecting and beheading nin left and right. She was the first to enter the yakuza palace, a trail of blood marking her path. Behind her, Uchiha Mikoto shook her head and held back a sigh. Youko wasn't really the same any longer, she thought, and ignited the corpses at the entry on fire. She went left whereas her friend went straight, Deer going right as he shuffled inside the palace quietly. Tiger didn't bother with a katana. She simply lit them up like Christmas lights, not once looking back as the horrid scent of burning flesh filled the night air.  
_

_It was the last of their missions together as faceless killers._

…

_Dully, Mikoto washed the blood from her hands, hair held in a high ponytail. The crystalline water colored carmine, fading into crimson and pink as the flow continued to fall on her skin. The faces of the men and women she had killed ever since she was six plagued her mind. War is war, and innocence is sin in such times – but...she found herself wishing – praying – her children won't have to bear the same fate as her. Or as any of her friends, for that matter. She sighed, discarding her bloodied clothes and stepping into the warm bathtub, sinking beneath the surface filled with pleasant fragrances of bath oils and salts, masked from prying eyes by a fluffy mass of blue-white bubbles. The Uchiha matriarch allowed the warm liquid to rinse the filth from her scarred body, closing her eyes to shun the memories.  
_

_Perhaps it was time to retire once and for all._

_She thought then of Youko, the woman's empty eyes and shaken smile bringing a painful ache to her heart. She was too frail, too emotional for a Hyuuga. Hyuuga were vain – Youko was humble. Hyuuga were prideful; Youko was reserved. Hyuuga were swift killers...well, maybe there they were one and the same. Blood doesn't turn to water that easily, huh? She laughed with a snort and a giggle, the sound hollow. She stretched backwards, submersing almost fully in the bath. Her eyes found the perfectly white ceiling and she suddenly felt the nagging urge to break something. Or better yet, burn something to ashes._

_Yeah. She'll do just that._

"_Mommy?" a four-years old Itachi sleepily asked from the doorway, and nothing else mattered. She smiled, beckoning him to come closer.  
_

_"Why aren't you sleeping?" she asked softly, petting his hair._

_"I wanted to see you. Daddy never says where you're going, but I know it's dangerous."_

_As Itachi climbed in the porcelain tub for a before-naptime bath, Mikoto decided she'd like to burn something to oblivion. And, she'll do just that. Later._

* * *

**Asagao to Higanbana**

_**Chapter Three**_

Sasuke chewed on his sandwich thoughtfully, gaze drifting from time to time to look out the window. Puffy, white masses of foam moved across the sky's acrylic blue surface, lazily moving like little sponges on satin; pushed by the summer breeze, they drifted effortlessly, shining bright beneath the golden sun. A halo was distinguishable in the day-star's reflection, and he was somewhat apprehensive at the thought of rain.

Sasuke hated the rain. Everytime someone died, the sky seemed to mourn in tempo with the dead's relatives, pouring endless waves and bouts of water upon the brown earth and gray concrete of Konoha. It had rained when his mother's best friend died. It had rained when Shisui's father passed away. It had...it had rained the day his father and the clan's leading figureheads had passed away in a tragic accident.

An explosion. Users of fire died by the very flame they prided themselves with.

He exhaled and startled himself when the bout of air coming out through his nose was in fact a sigh. His thoughts drifted to the girl his mother always gushed over; Hyuuga Hinata. His shy, stuttering, insufferably adorable – did he just thought she was adorable? "Damn it," he cussed, rubbing his temples, - inapt classmate. Well, former classmate. She graduated, and it came out unsurprisingly, somehow. And, somehow, she ended up as a scary man's student.

He knew of Orochimaru; a legendary Sannin, one of the three students of the Third Hokage, the reckless, arrogant shinobi that was capable to wipe out entire armies by himself. A powerful man who almost caved in to madness as he foolishly begun to desire eternal life; somehow, something or someone snapped him out of it, _just in time_.

...or so Itachi told him once. Sasuke looked at the sky through the window, frowning as the once white clouds were now a threatening, dark gray. He'll seek out Hinata, he decided. Because his mother likes her so much, he tells himself, he might even invite her over. _Just_ because his mother likes her.

A drop of rain hit the glass, and then another. Soon, the soft _splash _of water hitting tile joined the symphony as the roof took on its' solemn duty of protecting those inside the house from the weather's vicious whims.

Tomorrow. He'll seek out the girl, tomorrow. When the rain will be gone and he won't hurt anymore. He vaguely wondered what was taking his mother so long to come back with the groceries; the food tasted wrong without any tomato in it.

It didn't taste like home.

* * *

Uchiha Mikoto was a normally kind, easy-going woman. But everyone that knew her past mere pleasantries point knew you were as good as dead if you rubbed her the wrong way. So when villagers noticed she had a cold, murderous even, look in her eyes, they politely and fearfully stepped out of her path, pitying the pour soul that she will undoubtedly send to meet its' maker in a matter of minutes. Feet clad in black, heelless sandals, the retired kunoichi left only dust behind her as she made her way towards one of the less-visited parts of the village: the Hyuuga compound. The Sharingan's mistress narrowed her eyes.

She entered through the open gates, ignoring the guard's surprise at seeing her step inside the domain. Her feet carried her on paths and corridors that were once all-too familiar. She flung open the door of the room in which she knew she would find her target, a moment's doubt looming over her like a shadow. She dismissed the insecurity, rudely stalking up to Hiashi without having first taken off her shoes or greeted. Her right hand collided with his corresponding cheek, the _slap _sound the contact made filling the stunned silence of his guards and some onlooking Branch Members. "How dare you? Just how dare you?!"

Unfazed, the man looked up at her, still seated at his desk. "How dare I what, Uchiha-san?"

_Slap._

"You know damn well what I'm talking about!" Mikoto snapped, Sharingan flaring to life. Five tomoe bound by three circular lines swirled dangerously, black ink poured into ruby abysses. Her eyes were shining like fire. Dangerous, dangerous fire.

Hiashi sighed. He was beginning to have a headache. The fact she twisted his head around with that slap didn't help. "If this is about my eldest-"

The Sharingan Mistress brought her hand the other way, the back of her calloused palm making contact with his left cheek. _Slap!_

"You have no right to call Hinata _your _daughter, you know. Youko was the only one in this damned family, save for your brother, that truly cared about the girl. Now, I want you to tell me _why _you abused, disowned and humiliated _Youko's daughter_." the woman hissed. Hiashi's eyes hardened, and he sighed again.

His cheeks stung, and he had a feeling he'll get more slaps.

"Leave." he commanded the members of his clan; they vanished, albeit reluctantly. The Hyuuga patriarch sighed. "Let's talk about this somewhere else," he suggested weakly. His eyes made contact with hers, and he found himself perplexed yet again by her dojutsu.

She understood the reasoning of his request from just that brief glance. Scoffing, she nonetheless indulged him. They were gone in a flicker, away from prying eyes. Atop the Hokage Mountain, where she could hit him all she liked and where he could lose his composure. Where he'll have no dignity and she'll still be painfully right about everything.

The wind whirled the pouring rain in mini tornado formations, hitting their bodies like leather whips. Long bangs sticking to her neck, hair unbound, Mikoto didn't seem to mind. Eyes bland, Hiashi overlooked the village lit by dim, evening light. His white eyes were vacant, lifeless. And even if the pouring rain was making deafening noise as it hit the rocks around them, the setting seemed irritatingly silent to the Uchiha matriarch. She sneered. "Well? Care to explain, or do I need to beat it out of you?" she pressed on, patience wearing thinner and thinner with each passing second. The man inhaled, trying to calm down.

"I had no choice, Mikoto." he snipped. "I did what I thought was best."

"By making her feel hated in her own home?" the woman snorted.

"By making her feel _unwelcome_," he uttered, a lame defense attempt, before she could say more.

"And this is helpful, how?" she mocked with a snort, Sharingan still swirling.

"She'd want to leave. She'd want to prove us wrong." the man explained.

"Us? So you, like always, followed the Elders' wishes. Pathetic." she scoffed, and flexed her fingers.

"I had no choic-"

"There is _always _a choice, Hiashi! So cut the crap already!" Mikoto finally snapped, abruptly cutting hm off. He fell silent. "Do you even realize what you've done?" she asked, a certain despair beneath her tone.

"I..." he begun, at a loss of words. He simply sat down on a boulder, looking at the mud beneath his slipper-clad feet. He sighed, heavily, worn-out.

"This will turn against you, one day. Hinata will grow up to be just like her mother. And when she'll be among the best shinobi in Konoha, perhaps even considered for the Hokage seat, the Hyuuga name won't be able to take pride in her name. It will be Orochimaru that will have trained, yet again, the greatest of _your _shinobi. It will be him she'll look at for acknowledgement, him she'll regard as a father. I'm actually thankful for that, you know? He makes a far, far better parent then you'll ever even be able to hope to be. Testimony to that are all of those he'd trained; mostly orphans. For them, he was both a teacher and a father. Maybe still is. And you will feel immensely bad for not giving her the childhood Youko would have wanted her to have, but it will be too late. She maybe will say she's forgiven you, if you grovel properly at her feet, but she will never truly forgive you, not quite." the Uchiha said.

"Do you know why?"

The man's head slowly shot up, blind Hyuuga eyes meeting unfeeling Uchiha ones. Coldly, Mikoto smiled.

"Because blood isn't thicker than water."

* * *

Hinata wiggled her cold toes, giggling quietly at the sound of Kiba's slurping on his noodles. Akamaru barked, wiggling his tail rapidly, licking Kurenai's hand appreciatively as the woman set a bowl of grilled meat in front of him. Ever-so-quietly, Shino was enjoying his own bowl of steaming vegetable soup, movement a bit awkward. He looked funny without his hooded jacket and sunglasses, although he still had a turtlenecked shirt on.

Kurenai's home was beautiful, Hinata decided, her legs dangling off of the chair.

Brown parquet stretched across the floors in all rooms – save for the kitchen and bathrooom –, the rich color giving the house an exquisite touch. The living room's walls were a pretty shade of powder blue, various pictures strategically making a collage on the wall across from the room's entrance. The first thing you saw when you entered were the smiling faces of Kurenai and other people, most from her shinobi generation or family. In one, the exotic woman was wrapped in Anko Mitarashi's suffocating hug. Both women had grins plastered on their faces.

A plush couch with three cushions was facing the wall with windows, a TV facing the marine blue piece of furniture, a low, square coffee table in-between them. Armchairs were near the wall with the door, also facing the picture-wall, a tall table pivoted on a single leg in-between. The wall opposed to the windows was covered from the ceiling to the floor in a collection of bookshelves, all filled to the brim. A large, oval, white carpet stretched from the center of the floor.

She smiled, staring intently at that wall from her perfect spot at the table in the beige-and-brown-tiled kitchen. She sipped her hot cocoa quietly, happy at being given a day off from training by her over-zealous teacher. She enjoyed Orochimaru's company immensely; he was always kind, regarding her in conversation as an equal instead of treating her condescendingly. He was patient, explaining everything without even being asked to, encouraging her to shed her social awkwardness and embrace that dangerous disease known as confidence. And, most importantly, he always seemed to look out for her.

Like a father would for their daughter.

She probably liked that the most. After her biological parent downright kicked her out, she was almost confused by the amount of warmth she begun finding. Not pity; no. _Warmth_. Orochimaru took it upon himself to spoil her like a father, whereas Kurenai gushed over her much like how she remembered her own mother doing, from fractured pieces of old memories that she scrambled for and knotted tightly to her heart. And then there were others, like Kiba and Shino who slipped into a very defensive, very brotherly mode whenever it came to "_their Hinata_"; like Tsunade, who always held a smile when tutoring her and pat her back or ruffled her hair for a job well done, and motivated her subtly with cinnamon buns when she became depressed. And like Asuma, who always had candy in his pockets for her when he came to hang around, or pick up or bring back Kurenai from their dates. He resembled Uncle Hizashi, in that aspect.

People seemed to think she was heartbroken by being abandoned by her relatives. What people didn't know was that her (remaining) relatives had abandoned her long, long ago. Right after her mother died, if she were to be honest about it. Taking away her right to name herself a Hyuuga, more or less, was just another scrape added to a series of blows they've dealt to her throughout years. And, looking out the window, focusing on the raindrops racing with each other down the glass panel, the young kunoichi decided she didn't mind being stripped of her name, if it was the price she had to pay for contentment.

Stripping her of her name, she decided, had brought some sort of closure. She now knew where she stands - a Hyuuga, but not really one. A Konoha kunoichi, apprentice of the great Orochimaru. One of the Rookie Nine, one third of their females. Student of Yuuhi Kurenai, teammate of an Inuzuka and of an Aburame. Somewhat apprentice of Tsunade, who commented multiple times she'd like the girl to train under her tuition in medical ninjutsu as well.

She watched a fat raindrop roll down rapidly over the glass, and she sipped on her hot drink carefully, reaching for a nearby cinnamon bun.

Decidedly, she was many things, but she was just Hinata. And, decidedly, Hinata added as an after-thought, she really, _really _liked rainy days.

They reminded her of her mother.

* * *

**Author's Footnote**: Yet another chapter...I like including these random flashbacks at the beginning of them, lol. And I totally love Mikoto! She fucking rocks. As such, she will appear quite often. :D


	5. Chapter 4

_As a breeze swept past the evening-lit meadow in which Training Grounds Number Forty-Two were situated, making the tall grass and the few maple trees' leaves shake ever-so-lightly from side to side, Orochimaru wondered for perhaps the hundredth time how in the world did Jiraiya and Tsunade persuaded him into becoming a jounin supervisor for a genin three-man cell. He ran a hand through his long bangs, the fine hairs on the back of his neck standing up as the chilly October wind came in contact with his heated, ivory skin. He contemplated letting his hair fall down from the ponytail he'd earlier put it in, but his thoughts didn't got to go any further as his assigned team arrived. He blinked, taking them in._

_The first was a young kunoichi with chin-length blue hair. Her bangs parted at the front, confounding themselves with the rest of her hair and framing her pretty, heart-shaped face. Intelligent, curious black eyes stared back at him evenly, unafraid. She sported a pair of simple, knee-length black pants that fit her form a bit loosely, a deep red blouse with elbow-length sleeves that bore the Uchiha's clan symbol embedded onto both shoulders, and a black flak vest with two big pockets on either side unzipped at the front. As she neared him, her blue sandal-clad feet got lost in the grass. Her forehead protector was tied around her right arm. "Hello!" she greeted, chirping, and gave a polite bow. He found himself smiling._

_An Uchiha, huh. Interesting._

_Trudging behind her was a decidedly androgynous young boy. Judging by his blood-red hair, he was, probably, the member of his team that hailed from the Uzumaki clan. Waist-length, red hair was pulled back in a low, loose ponytail, the Konohagakure's symbol embedded into metal proudly shining in the setting sun from the protector tied tightly around the boy's forehead. A mesh undershirt covered his chest and arms down to the wrists; on top of it, the boy sported a sleeveless green kimono-styled top. It was held together by three buttons to the side and a white sash-like obi, securely wrapped three or four times around the boy's waist, just above his hips. Black pants fitted him loosely, becoming tight from knee-down, a second skin contrasting with his pale skin. He bowed respectfully, silver eyes dull and lacking life. "Good evening." he greeted, monotone. _

_An ache ran through Orochimaru's chest. He knew that look far, far too well. He'd seen in the mirror for countless mornings._

_Lastly, a petite girl bowed, settling in-between her two teammates, both whom adopted a rather protective aura at her action. He honestly didn't envy the single male that had been put on his team; but that's what happens when a class has unusual numbers. When she lifted her head back up, he could stare back freely into pupil-less, lavender eyes. Bangs a little too long framed an oval face, showcasing her features; her violet-indigo hair stopped at her shoulders. Much like her red-haired teammate, she wore a kimono-styled blouse. Unlike the Uzumaki boy's, however, hers had long bell sleeves. Black in color, the bottom part had plum blossoms scattered across it. A plum-colored, wide obi-like sash held it together, starting beneath her bossom and ending at her hip line. The shirt altogether ended a quarter higher than mid-tight. From beneath, bandages peeked out to meet the sun. Much like the Uchiha girl, she wore a pair of black knee-length, somewhat loose-fitting pants. Her forehead protector was wound around her head, resting just before the point where her bangs' roots started and tied near the base of her neck. The material that kept the steel plaque bore a black color. He noted that she didn't display her clan's symbol anywhere on her garments. _

"_G-good evening."_

_An Uchiha with a cheerful disposition, an Uzumaki that lacked any sort of expression and a Hyuuga that seemingly lacked confidence. Oh, Buddha, what did he sign himself up for? _

* * *

**Asagao to Higanbana**

_**Chapter Four**_

It was raining over Konoha a second day in a row. Slow, lazy downpour fell from an endless mass of dark gray clouds that drifted along the skyline, bathing the Village Hidden in The Leaves in salt-free tears of Heaven. Small, crystalline raindrops came in contact with the existing puddles that formed all over thanks to the storm a day before, splashing and spraying the dirt around the puddle and making the sand-colored ground a dirty brown. Twitching his nose, Uchiha Itachi made his way toward the Hokage Tower at a snail's pace, lulled into a drowsy state by the way the rain singed and muted all other noise to background buzz. Shielded by a large, black umbrella, he regretted wearing sandals as rain hit his bare toes from time to time and left behind a cold, tingling sensation.

Still, he couldn't say he disliked the rain. Compared to the insufferable heat Konoha had to endure during summer (bless those forests around the village – the breeze was excellent and it was the only reason the place didn't yet become a second Suna during July), the rain and any sort of humid weather was more than welcome.

Looking around, he noticed he was one of the few people who dared walk out in such weather – ignoring the numbers of his little brother's fangirls (he smirked at the thought). Not far in the distance, he could spot an oil paper umbrella. Midnight blue in color, it was patterned with superb violet iris flowers; as he came closer and closer to the umbrella and the small person it shielded, he could notice how detailed the flowers were painted. They looked so real. Almost as a breeze was caressing them, making them twist the tiniest of bits. Almost as if you touched them, you would feel the softness of their petals beneath your fingertips.

_Superb work_, he mused, stopping next to the person who was using the beautiful umbrella and peering down. For a split-second, he was stunned.

Hinata frowned, feeling her legs ache. Thanks to the rain, she had nowhere to sit whilst she waited for Orochimaru-sensei to come out of the meeting the Third Hokage had called him to. She still couldn't understand why the old man wanted her teacher present at a _clan heads' meeting, _but when you are as old as Sarutobi Hiruzen is – and you've earned the title of _God of Shinobi –_ you certainly must know what you're doing. Thus, twelve-years-old Hinata didn't question the man's judgment. It didn't stop her legs from aching, though. She sighed, twirling her rather unusual choice of umbrella, noticing only then someone was standing next to her.

And that she successfully sprayed them with the excess water on her rain-shield. She gasped, quick to bow. "I'm s-so sorry!" she meeped.

Amused, Itachi smiled. Fate certainly had a sense of humor, he'll give it that. There he was sitting, not knowing how to start a conversation; "It's fine...Hinata-san." his amusement furthered when her head shot up in non-concealed surprise at him calling her by her given name. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling too widely. She blinked up at him, brows furrowed.

"B-but...now you're w-wet because I was c-careless." _so she still stutters. Adorable._

"It's fine, really." he waved it off. "You were absorbed by your thoughts. It happens."

"U-um..." she trailed off, fingers clenching and unclenching. "D-do I...have we...D-did we meet b-before?" she asked, unsure. He chuckled, nodding.

"Years ago." was the simple response. Then, he extended a hand. "Itachi. Uchiha Itachi."

It seemed to click. Her mouth formed a small "o", her whole face becoming radiant with recognition. She gently slid her right hand in his, clutching it softly.

"Are you waiting for someone, Hinata-san?" Itachi asked, blinking down at her as their hands parted. She nodded.

"Y-yes. Orochimaru-sama w-was called at the clan heads' meeting...P-probably as Hokage-sama's advisor." it was his turn to nod. "What about you, Itachi-san? I-if...if you don't mind m-me asking."

"I'm waiting for my mother. She is the acting head, so she was called to the monthly meeting as well." the man responded with a smile. Various clan leaders begun exiting the door. Nara Shikaku nodded towards Itachi upon spotting him, blinking at the sight of Hinata near the brooding teen. Yamanaka Inoichi seemed to notice them as well, as he begun to stroll toward the odd pairing.

"Waiting for Mikoto, Itachi?" he inquired, giving a wave of salute. Blinking, the man nodded. "Then you and the young lady here might want to go inside – Hokage-sama has kept her and Hiashi for an after-talk."

"...what about?" the weasel-man inquired, tilting his head, more to himself than to the sandy-blond shinobi. He sighed. "Thank you, Yamanaka-san. I have a feeling I know what's it about."

Grinning, Inoichi begun to make his way toward the Yamanaka Flower Shop. "You're welcome~ Tell your mother she's officially my hero!" he shouted, laughing.

Itachi sighed, again. "Damn that Shisui..." he uttered beneath his breath. As if on cue, the spiky-haired Uchiha dropped next to him with a loud, girlish squeal.

"ITA-CHAN~" was the distinguishable word as he went in for a glomp. Aptly, Itachi dodged. A bad move, as the man ended up crashing into Hinata instead.

As for the lavender-eyed Hyuuga ex-heiress, she did what she knew best; she promptly fainted in Shisui's (accidental) embrace.

Oh boy.

_Great. Mother's going to kill us._

* * *

"Dismissed."

The Hokage sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He refilled his pipe's contents, cracking open one eye and fixing a stare on the Hyuuga and Uchiha heads. "You two, stay. We need to talk." In the doorway, the Snake Sannin stopped as well, intrigued; he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed across his chest after closing the door. Hiruzen opened both eyes, watching carefully as both Hiashi and Mikoto settled back onto their seats at the long conference table. Gray rings of smoke rose from the man's pipe, followed by various funny-looking clouds. On a far wall, the clock ticked quietly, its' leveled beat the only thing to slice through the silence.

He looked at the two people, each on a different side of the table. Hiashi stood stiff, upright, inflexible grace from head to toe. Wrapped in a fine silk kimono of a washed plum-violet shade, a mesh shirt peeking out from the small opening across his chest. A pristine white obi was keeping the robe together; the haori he donned on top of his robes was bearing a wooden brown, patternless color. Eyes stern, his face bore no expression whatsoever. Across from him, Mikoto was the exact opposite. Stance relaxed, the woman was leaning backwards in the chair, a hand on her stomach and the other in her lap, the appendages not quite folded. She wore a long-sleeved midnight blue blouse, her usual skirt replaced by black pants thanks to the weather. Although retired, she still wore ninja sandals.

The Hokage sighed. "Alright, children. Care to explain why you had a physical fight?" he asked, his wrinkled face hiding his dread. Perched near the door, Orochimaru blinked at the sentence.

"Because he's being an uptight asshole, that's why." Mikoto huffed, tone even. Hiruzen disguised his laugh with a cough, although it sounded more like a snort.

"You have no right to meddle in the Hyuuga affairs, _Uchiha_." Hiashi parried, sneering the name out. The woman's face darkened.

"I have every single right when my goddaughter is involved." she hissed back, a vicious viper trapped in a fight with a hawk.

The Third exhaled through his nose. "Calm down, you two. Tell me what this all is about."

"It's about Hinata-chan." The blue-haired woman spoke before her adversary could. "I'm quite sure you know she was disowned. Legally, he has no right to do so."

"I didn't disown her _legally_. That's what you didn't let me say, you hot-headed woman." Hiashi snorted disdainfully. He sighed as all eyes moved on him. "She has the right to challenge the clan head and the rival candidate at the heir position on her sixteenth birthday in the latter case, and on her eighteenth birthday in the former. Whether she wins or she loses, none of my daughters receive the cursed seal. Legally, they cannot be disowned, because none of them is _male. _The Hyuuga codes state that a little too clearly."

"I highly doubt she will want anything to do with you or the Hyuuga, Hiashi-san, regardless of those loopholes." Orochimaru's velvet voice cut in smoothly. "To me, she looks happy in Miss Yuuhi's care. Her two teammates have taken it upon themselves to act as some sort of replacement siblings instinctively; the Inuzuka boy, in spite of all his flaws, is fiercely protective of Hinata. Moreso, even when she thinks no one is paying attention, not once did she look depressed. As far as I have been informed, she cried only once since she's split ways with her family. When you had her move out and you said she's _no daughter of yours_." he commented, smirking. Oh, how he enjoyed annoying people..."She is the type of child that needs encouragement, not harsh words in order to develop."

Hiashi glared. "With all due respect," it was obvious he lacked it, "what would _you_ know about children?"

"More than you do, that's for sure." Mikoto snorted in response on behalf of the pale man.

Shaking his head, Hiruzen shooed them with a hand's movement. "I don't want to hear a repetition has happened!"

Orochimaru opened the door, holding it for Mikoto to pass first through. The woman gave him a minimal smile. Hiashi passed next, eying the man disdainfully – Orochimaru's smirk merely widened. As he prepared to extract himself from the room, his former mentor's voice made him pause. "Take good care of the girl, Orochimaru. If Kurenai is to be a surrogate mother, then I am counting on you to keep the father's place."

"Ah. Wouldn't Asuma be jealous if I were to do that, though? Plus, I am rather committed to a certain short-tempered kunoichi myself...Sensei." the Sannin chuckled, before closing the wooden door behind him. Well, that would _certainly _give the older man things to think about. Things among which grandchildren were included. He just hoped and prayed to the gods whatever came out of Asuma and his significant other wouldn't be like Konohamaru. Amaterasu and Buddha stood both witness to the fact that The Village Hidden in The Leaves didn't have room for a third Uzumaki Naruto...or a fourth, for that matter. He shuddered.

He didn't have anything against the blond child. On the contrary; the Fourth's son intrigued him greatly. But when one is so loud that it is _barely _supportable enough to be endearing, you really don't need more of him.

_Really_.

Vaguely aware of his surroundings as he walked down the "spartan-chic" hallways of the Tower and begun climbing down the spiral, stone staircase (always two steps behind Hiashi), he blinked out of his haze when he heard Mikoto gasp rather loudly. Curiously, he peered over Hiashi to see what gotten the woman to sprint forward like a devil was on her heels – well, two were, but they were harmless, really! He clenched his jaw tightly as he saw his most recent apprentice laying pale and passed out on the couch in the lobby, her head cushioned by a folded cloak. With worried expressions (more or less) Uchiha Itachi and Uchiha Shisui were quietly – and heatedly – conversing in whispers. The latter was gesturing frantically. Orochimaru sighed. Just what did the mischief duo do _this _time? It wasn't rocket science that anything plus Shisui equals disaster, regardless of what village you were a citizen of. He was the only person that could possibly bring out the more playful side of his rather stoic kouhai – and that was just _bad_.

Because when Uchiha Itachi was up to no good, you had what to fear, regardless of how harmless his intentions were. The Snake Sannin leaned against a wall, watching bemusedly as Mikoto entered a mother-mode and begun questioning her son and his friend. Who said hell hath no furry like a woman scorned obviously didn't know how mothers reacted when their children were endangered – or in the current case, godchildren. He almost laughed as the Uchiha mistress promptly slapped both (young) men on the back of their heads, kneeling afterwards by Hinata's side to check her vitals and take the girl's temperature. Golden eyes sliding to the girl's biological father, Orochimaru noted that Hiashi had went stiff at the sight of his daughter's pale form. He stepped forward as Mikoto breathed out in relief, "She's okay". Visibly, the Hyuuga patriarch's stance relaxed.

"I have been informed Hinata has the habit of fainting in certain circumstances thanks to her timidity. What, exactly, have you two done to my pupil?" he inquired, his half-amused stare fixed on a sweating Shisui. The man cowered a little, hiding in a childish manner behind his junior to use him as a human shield. Itachi sighed, his head dropping lightly.

"To sum it up: Shisui attempted an attack...hug of sorts. I side-stepped. He got Hinata-san instead of me. She fainted, and we brought her inside. She didn't have a heart attack – luckily." the last part was directed at his best friend, more than at the three adults (Shisui hardly counted as one). Nodding, the Snake Sannin stepped to the couch's side, gently picking up the girl and taking her in his arms. She stirred, lightly, but didn't woke up; instead, she snuggled closer into her teacher's chest.

"I'm taking her to my estate. This sets back our training with one more day, but lessons are just as welcome as sparring sessions." he informed, the last part more a thought said aloud than anything.

Before he used the Body Flicker, he could see Hiashi stiffen and scowl at the floor at that. Oh, how he _loved_ pissing off people, indeed.


	6. Chapter 5

_Orochimaru smirked at his newly-assigned genin cell. "Before any introductions, you must first prove your worth. I am not sure you are aware, but only nine out of twenty-seven graduates will be truly promoted. The rest are sent back to the Academy, as they have obviously learned nothing. In our case, a rather pointless measure, as it's doubtful they'll learn even if they fail. We need as many manpower as we can get, but you can't really send all snotty prats out on the battlefield, I guess." he spoke, and flexed his fingers, cracking them. He continued._

_"The first one to successfully strike me – even a mere scratch counts - will be promoted." he informed simply, presenting them the rules of their examination with a neutral expression. The three looked at one another, slightly puzzled. Then, the Uchiha girl gave an infuriating smirk. Her eyes hardened, and black swirled into red, drowning the nothingness, three tomoe bound by one circle forming around the pupil._

"_You are gravely underestimating us, mister. But if such are the orders...we shall deliver. Right, Youko-chan, Shun-san?"_

_The Hyuuga girl's response was the bulging of the veins around her eyes. The red-haired boy sighed gravelly, rolling his quicksilver eyes.  
_

"_Drop the "-san", Mikoto. You're making me feel like an old man." he said, doing no particular display of power whatsoever._

_Orochimaru split into nine perfect earth-made copies of himself without warning, and they begun spreading out. He carefully poured the same level of chakra in eight of them, rising it slightly in the ninth. He heard the Uchiha girl give a sigh of annoyance as he melted, unseen – or so he thought – within the ground. The copies waited for the children to deal the first strike. That was a bad move on their part._

_The Uzumaki boy dropped into a half-crouch, his hands quickly performing hand-seals. "Doton: Chidoukaku!" he uttered, Orochimaru's copies were brought together, at a rather far, overly-cautious distance from the trio of genin. "Doton: Budou!" he added, and large formations of ground in the shape of vines tied tightly around them. Mikoto Uchiha took this as her cue to jump into action. Busy with marveling at their talent, both the clones and the peeking original did not notice the Hyuuga girl's patient, all-seeing eyes. They also missed the triumphal look they held as she sheepishly poked Shun in the side and signaled the direction he was in._

"_Katon: Gouenkyuu!" Mikoto proudly proclaimed, spiting a meteor-sized ball of fire at the clones and promptly turning them to ashes. A second later, Orochimaru felt the ground beneath his feet shake, and he was pushed upwards by the ground in which he hid himself in. Before he had a moment to realize what was happening, three sharp cuts could be felt on his arms and right leg. "Gotcha." the Uchiha spoke first – her strike was the one to graze his left arm. From his right, the Uzumaki boy grinned. He looked down to find the Hyuuga girl, kunai in hand, smiling sheepishly up at him._

"_Y-you said whoever strikes first passes, right, mister? W-well...since we stroke at the s-same moment, I g-guess you have no choice but t-to give us all the passed seal, ne?"_

_Clever little brat..._

* * *

**Asagao to Higanbana**

_**Chapter Five**_

The young nin waited patiently, face hardened (yet soft all the same). Senbon were kept ready, clutched deftly in-between long, pale fingers. The frame of the young fighter screamed elegance; the shinobi's stance was graceful. Long, black hair cascaded down her back and shoulders, framing a pretty, feminine, oval face. Fair skin and lovely, doe brown eyes. Training clothes, navy and simple, a mesh under armor. Oddly enough, barefoot on the cool marble of the marred training grounds. A thousand needles made of water whizzed through the air. Eyes widening, the girl aptly disappeared from their trajectory. In a heartbeat, she was behind the large, odd-colored las that fired them. And in a beat, her senbon were fired at him. With a muttered curse, the man dodged, although one metal stick embedded itself into his shoulder. The girl disappeared again from his line of vision, only to fire ice needles at his back. Again, the bluish man dodged, a second too late.

Large ripping in his shirt, and the trashed garment fell on the ground. The girl grinned, forming seals with one hand again, firing another wave of needles. He dodged, forming seals of his own as he flickered out of her weapons' way. "Suiton: Suikoudan no Jutsu!" he grunt out, a large shark forming, blue from chakra mending with water and fiercer than any real one. It swam through the air, cutting it like a knife, graceful and dimly lighting; it opened its' fierce jaws and almost got the girl inside.

"Hyouton: Kouri no Tate!" was her response, harder than steel ice taking a round shape in front of her and making the shark turn to a mere spray of water upon impact. Recoiling, somersaulting backwards, the young kunoichi threw more senbon at him. Cursing again, the bluish man made another seria of seals, and landed behind her.

"Doton: Dochuu Senkou!" he proclaimed, melting within the ground. The girl frowned, jumping up. She knew that technique too well.

"Hyouton: Tengoku no Tejun!" she whispered out, landing on thin air, ice folding beneath her and hovering in the air as support. When he resurfaced and quickly sent water needles toward her, she somersaulted out the way, landing again on air, higher this time. An ice block quickly formed beneath her feet to keep her steady and prevent her descent.

A thick voice broke the silence that was marred by sounds of battle alone. "I think it's safe to stop. It's obvious enough not even you can take 'er down, Kisame." The bluish man scoffed.

"I didn't go hard on her, Zabuza. I have enough pride and honor not to hurt a _genin kunoichi _that so happens to be my half-apprentice." he irritably responded, hands folding over his chest. The black-haired girl smiled, chuckling softly. The ice beneath her feet melted, and she hopped down from her spot high in the air, a soft glass-like platform folding beneath the front of her feet as she jumped her way down to the ground. She landed with a silent thud next to the man, and patted his arm.

"Don't feel insulted, Kisame-san. I'm one of the best genin in Ame, if not in the entirety of the Nations."

The blue shinobi rose an eyebrow, amused. "So you're saying I should feel proud?" She paused at that.

"Maybe." she responded seriously, head titlting. He broke into laughter, and affectionately pat her head.

"Lil' smartass." he mumbled, ruffling her hair until it was fuzzy. Zabuza smirked.

"That's Haku for you." he nodded, making the girl pout.

An ANBU agent dropped from seemingly nowhere, bowing deeply. "I am sorry to disturb! Konan-san has sent me with dispositions for Kisame Hoshigaki-san and Haku of the Yuki Clan!"

At that, the girl and man blinked, looking at one another. "These dispositions are?" Zabuza inquired for them. The ANBU scratched the porcelain covering his right cheek.

"They are to deploy urgently towards West and meet up with a special messenger hailing from Konoha; Mitarashi Anko." he explained, holding out a small scroll. "Extended info is detailed here."

"Thanks for the heads-up, Shuichi-san." Haku smiled, knowing that beneath the mask the man was blushing. Kisame took the scroll. The shinobi bowed again before disappearing. The girl pinched the bluish man's side. "You heard him, Kisame-san~ Put a shirt on and grab Samehada. A rain cloak, too. I'll meet you at the gate in ten." she grinned, and gone she was in a Body Flicker.

In synch, the elder shinobi looked at eachother and sighed deeply. "Troublesome, bossy brat." was the sentence they muttered in unison.

* * *

Never-ending rain poured down the heavily metalized city (village was too little a word) of Ame, proving the reason why the setting had been named accordingly. It irritably slapped the young girl's face, the wind that kicked up the raindrops making her soaked bangs whip around her face. Like a hardened ninja, Haku didn't complain. Locks twisted in a bun, she had put on her light, pinstripes-patterned gray attire: a turtleneck top with the collar rolled and a pair of form-fitting, knee-length pants; over them, she'd thrown on her grass-green haori with white trimmings, tied it with a white obi and put on a black impermeable cloak. She looked at Kisame. He was strapping Samehada in place on his back, the custom red cloud pattern cloak gently flowing around his massive frame. He grinned at her, and she smiled back as they hopped out to meet up with the Konohagakure envoy. Detailed description of their official-yet-not mission (a mere C-rank by any official standards) said the kunoichi they were to meet up with was Orochimaru's first apprentice and an extremely skilled shinobi; Mitarashi Anko. She was accompanied by three children that unofficially held the genin rank, although by the Sannin's evaluations all had at least Chunin capabilities. They were to escort the four-man cell safely back to Amegakure. Easy enough...

"What if they have been ambushed? What if we meet up with enemies in disguise?" the girl suddenly asked, anxious eyes sliding unseen on her superior's form.

Never missing a beat – it would be fatal at the breakneck speed they ran at – Kisame grinned. "We kill 'em."

"But how will we know?" Haku pressed. The shark-like man shrugged with indifference.

"I know the woman's chakra; pattern, color, feel, _taste_. I'll recognize any irregularity in a heartbeat."

Satisfied, Haku's attention returned to their path on-foot on the muddy ground. They flew so gracefully, so fast, that it didn't have time to stick to their shoes. After roughly half an hour, the young kunoichi's trained eyes spied four hooded figures at the horizon line. Squinting, she accelerated, causing Kisame to bristle at her sheer speed. One or two more years of training and she'll surpass by far anything he has ever seen.

"I'm seeing them!" she called out, shouting yet not over the sound of dripping rain. He nodded, even if he knew she won't see it. He put a sprint to his speed as well, catching up to her. Five minutes later, and they stood face to face with the Konohagakure dispatch and her young charges. Kisame's eyes moved from one to the next.

An Uzumaki girl with square-lensed glasses that hid fuchsia eyes; wearing black pants that stopped at her knees, a mauve shirt that fit her upper body snugly, ending above her navel that had a long, split in two back piece. She wore gloves, visible when she fixed her glasses, and a black impermeable cloak. At the sight of Kisame, she gasped, stepping back.

"T-that chakra!"

"Hm?" he mused at this, bending over to look at her face more closely. Anko's hand clamped with a wet slap on the back of his head.

"You're scaring her, ya idiot!" the purplenette bit out, annoyance in her tone. He straightened, grinning.

"Sorry, sorry." is the uttered response. "Chakra perception, huh? Useful."

His eyes move to the next kid in row. A sick-looking boy with moss-green eyes and silver-white hair. Twin red dots marred the porcelain skin of his forehead. Loose-fitting pants that were typically worn by Konoha's ANBU agents and an open, lavender kimono-top with flowing bell sleeves peeked out from beneath his cloak. He looked sleepy and smelled of herbs and medicines. Kisame's nose twitched. The third in line was a well-built, unusually tall boy that dwarfed his two companions and reached almost up to Anko's shoulder. Wild orange hair, kind brown eyes and a reserved smile. His scent resembled a forest's morning perfume.

"'s them, alright." he gave the okay to Haku. With an unheard breath, the girl retreated the senbon she held back in her robes. Anko looked at them funnily.

"You're our escorts?" her disbelief was somewhat insulting.

"Got a problem, Dango-chan?" he grinned, leering at her. She leaned forward, a maniac grin on her lips.

"What if I did, Sharkie?" she provoked. Wanting to placate, the boy with wild hair stepped in-between them.

His hands went to the two nin's chest, making him flush lightly when his hand came in contact with the valley between the older kunoichi's breasts. "Calm down, Anko-sensei...ojisan..."

Anko barked with laughter. Kisame turned to stare at the boy with a hurt look. "Do I really look that old?" he asked. When no answer came, he twisted the upper half of his body around to look at Haku.

"Well..." the girl mused, scratching her cheek and looking away. The shark-like shinobi gave an anguished cry.

"I'm only twenty-eight!" he half-yelled.

**…**

The way back to Ame was made in utter silence. Sulkily, Kisame took the lead. That automatically left Haku to guard the rear. Just in case, two clones flanked her – both of the bluish man. She almost rolled her eyes at his concern; she supposed it was endearing, in a way. Haku wasn't sure who would be the first to have his head if he one day didn't return with her in tow: Konan or Zabuza. The former because the Lady of Ame prided herself with her village's record of _never losing any ninja_ ever since she assumed office (and because she truly cared about the young, promising kunoichi), and the latter because...

Simply because. Haku wasn't allowed to die. Not as long as the scary-looking man was still breathing and able to lift one finger alone. Somehow, although not a couple, the former apprentice of the Toad Sage and the former Swordsman of The Mist have taken the role of being surrogate parents for her upon themselves; without anyone asking them to. Kisame had ended up with the role of the funny, lenient uncle. The black-haired girl smiled, looking ahead. This array of extremely strange people had ended up becoming a makeshift family. Unconditional care hidden behind rude remarks and kicks to the gut.

And to her, that was the most obvious display of love.

They reached the Akatsuki Tower in a fairly longer period of time than it took when they left it – Anko easily kept up, and so did the silver-white haired boy, but the two others were several paces slower. Kisame grunt unheard at that; they'd have to work on their speed if they want to be reckoned as Amegakure ninja! He had to stop himself from reflexively speeding up at least twice. Once safe and in the heart of the settlement, the shark-like man and the black-haired kunoichi switched positions. The girl lead the way through an intricate maze of corridors with an unaccountable number of doors opening up to them; they climbed stairs and dodged a flying wave of stray kunai, a yell of "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, KAKUZU!" following them as they passed through the fifth floor and rounded up the spiral staircase to climb to the sixth. An after-echo of a malicious, dark chuckle, and the words, "You can try. Sadly, none of us can off the other – if we could, you would have been long-since dead, brat," followed them as they successfully avoided the danger. Anko was grinning carefreely as if used to the show, and Haku assured that this wasn't a rare occurrence ("It happens almost daily," she said with a smile that was almost creepy). Fourteen floors later, they reached the twentieth and last ground of the Tower – more properly, it can be referred to as "fortress". It measured a total of twenty-two floors, counting the ground floor and the attic; deep beneath the permanently wet soil stood secret grounds used for training that stretched from beneath the structure on a circular radius of almost ten kilometers. The three (unofficial) genin had yet to know this, albeit they would be informed of the building's layers soon enough.

At the end of the twentieth floor's corridor, double, heavy oak doors with knob handles opened inside the spacious office of the current leader of Amegakure. Kisame pushed them open, revealing an incredibly vast room. The walls were painted in a midnight blue color, the ceiling a shade darker. Paper lanterns lit the room, their sky-blue color giving a tint to the eerie glow they radiated. Different patterns were scattered on them; flowers, clouds, leaves dancing in the wind - one had a representation of a maiko playing the shamisen. The wall that sat opposite to the entrance was made entirely of glass. Six window panels filled the space with perfect transparency from the ceiling to the floor, the only thing that hinted the room wasn't open to the outside being the sturdy frames that kept them in place. Each could be individually open, or they could be slid altogether to the right; much like a shogi door. On the same wall to the right, a large white paper-panel was stuck. Its' purpose was to display information, channeled by Konan. On the wall to the left, several pictures created an impromptu collage; among them was a holster on which a kusarigama was held. A tribute to remind of Akatsuki's victory over Hanzou. The man's head in a jar hovered above the weapon, placed on a shelf.

In front of the window wall, a large, heavy desk was perched, aligned perfectly in the center of the line the glass behind set. Papers were organized in piles on it and around it, a woman with blue hair and drowsy silver eyes seated on a chocolate-colored leather armchair. A green-painted clay cup was filled halfway with peppermint tea, and the lady seemed to nurse a headache. Several documents classified as REPORT stood in front of her, open, two scrolls in hand's reach on her right (anyone who stood in front of her would have them in reach on their left). Twelve steps away from the massive desk were two velvet-dressed couches with four cushions, the color they bore matching the shade of the walls. A large in circumference yet low in height coffee table stood in-between them; it was round (and a large tray with dango sat on it). A black rug covered the brown parquet in that area. It looked soft, as if it was made from a bear's pelt (actually, it was made from numerous bear pelts sewn skillfully together). Upon their entrance, the lady lifted her head from her reading material, and everyone could see the temporary bags that formed beneath her beautiful silver eyes. She was rather scantily clad, her backless, sleeveless purple-blue top exposing a lot of skin. Her blue hair was caught, in part, in a bun atop her head.

A blue paper flower adorned it. "Kisame, Haku." she acknowledged, eyes moving after to settle on the Konoha kunoichi. A brief smile, "Anko."

"Tenshi." the former apprentice of Orochimaru grinned back. "Or shall I say, Konan-san."

Her attitude had a 360 degree turnaround. Gone was the carefree smile, or the maniacal gleam in her brown orbs. She thrown a scroll to the woman, plopping after on the left-side couch. Konan unwrapped it, reading carefully each word. Her eyes widened at some parts, her lips pursing tightly together at others. With a sigh, she wrapped it back up and sealed it with a new, different fuinjutsu after she was done. She stored it in one of the desk's drawers. Then, she fixed her gaze on the trio of genin, brows furrowed. "An Uzumaki, a Kaguya and a Seichi." she mused aloud, voice gentle, feathery. "How interesting."

"Has Orochimaru ever picked from the crowd kids that _weren't _interesting?" Anko piped up from her spot. Then, she smirked. "I must say, Jiraiya and Tsunade are alike him in that aspect."

Ignoring the disturbance, Konan's stare remained on the three children. After a minute that felt like an eternity, she scribbled something down on a piece of paper, and handed it for Haku to take. "Give them a tour and a meal. These are the numbers to their rooms. Have Rairi or one of the guards on the night shift give you the keys to them." she instructed. The black-haired girl nodded, signaling for the children to follow her.

As they shuffled out of the door, they could make out the sounds of Karin inquiring about the woman with "tide-like chakra"; "Who was that?" was the exact opening of the question. Haku had smiled, closing the door behind the group. "Amegakure's leader; Lady Konan."

Once they were away, Konan heaved a sigh. She went back to her cup of tea, watching through half-lidded eyes as Kisame put his cloak on the hook by the door and unbound Samehada for a cleaning session, setting down next to Anko. Ame's Lady was tired. So tired, that she caught instead of dodging the empty, still sticky dango stick Anko thrown her way after finishing a serving. "Still sharp, I see." the woman commented. Konan said nothing, choosing instead to rise, only to place herself on the couch opposite from theirs. The spot was so comfortable she could fall asleep right there.

"I'm so stressed out." she whispered, yawning. Anko's careful eyes were on her. She decided to explain; "Nagato has infiltrated Kirigakure. He, together with a team of ten of my best jonin are all the aid I could send at the moment for Mei Terumi and her revolution movement. Currently, they are collecting data and devising a plan. As Kisame had informed, the Fourth Mizukage might just be a bloody puppet. Yahiko's off on data collecting and on the hunt for any rumor about the Konoha strays relocating. He recently picked up a trail that leads to Getsugakure, although he found nothing there. The only trail we have left now leads to Tanigakure." she rasped out, eyes closing. "I'm worried about them."

"Why didn't you deploy me and Zabuza, too?" Kisame asked, his movement on Samehada ceasing. Konan cracked one eye open briefly.

"Because you two are much more needed elsewhere. Zabuza has to take care of our teams' preparations on overall for the upcoming Chunin exams – and you have to go to Konoha as an ambassador."

The man scoffed. "An ambassador? _Really_, Konan-san?"

"Yes. In case anything happens, you are to aid the Sannins and the Hokage in defending Konoha." she clarified, tone signaling finality.

The man sighed, but didn't contradict her. Anko pursed her lips together, and promptly bent over the table to shove a dango stick in Konan's mouth.

"Be a lil' more optimistic, would you? Nothing's gonna happen." she glared.

Mouth full, the other woman sighed through her nose. "I hope so."

* * *

Orochimaru looked down at the slumbering bundle in his arms. Hyuuga Hinata was decidedly small, regardless of how you looked at it. Her breathing was regular and light, long eyelashes fluttering as her chest rose and fell with each breath. She looked much more peaceful when she didn't bear a light frown or an overly-shy smile. Golden eyes moved from her form to the gates ahead; he swiftly entered his domain.

It was a vast, spacious, secluded place. A three-story construction was the residential area, the architecture mixing Ancient Greek elements with Asian feudal ones. High-ceiling, columns, the monk-and-nun tiling and the arcs that the roof formed, coupled with the drainage system; behind, a large garden occupied a clearing. The estate was near the outskirts of Konoha, at the base of the mountain in which the Hokage Monument was carved in. Surrounded by forests and hidden from the public eye of the commoner, it accommodated all of the Snake Sannin's wishes. He was the only inhabitant, although Anko often crashed by.

He gently laid his charge on the comfortable couch in his office, exiting and returning moments later with a flower-patterned quilt to cover the girl with. Tucking her in, blueberry head nestled on one of the plum cushions that matched the velvet couch, Orochimaru shown a rare display of tenderness; he brushed the stray bangs away from her eyes, taking a moment to run one long, pale digit down her face. Rising from the crouched position, he released the heavy silk curtains that blinded the large window. Veiled evening light bleary streamed in, basking the room in gray-gold shine. Shuffling silently, the black-haired man then settled at his desk, pushing a pair of reading glasses up the bridge of his nose and unfolding a scroll. He opened a book next, seemingly comparing the material held by the two documents.

Time ticked, ebbing away. The snake-like man was still immersed in his work – having switched the book several times in favor of other – and the petite girl was still slumbering, lost in her dreamland.

The clock hit the hour of eight in the evening.

Disturbed by the bell-tick sound it made, the man paused his work. He heaved a sigh; this late, and the girl had yet to wake up. And he was expected somewhere, too...what to do? He couldn't postpone the visit; not any longer, really. But. He couldn't leave his young apprentice alone, either. He formed a few hand seals, an earth clone rising to stand beside the couch. Golden eyes meet the clay clone's; "Guard her" he rasped, and before having time to catch the nod that responded, he was gone in a swirl of dark mist. The clone looked down at the girl, pulling a chair so as to sit more comfortably while looking over her. Arms crossed, he lain in waiting.

**…**

Nono Yakushi fixed her glasses, smiling softly. In the orphanage's kitchen, few of the children were bickering as they cleaned the dishes. "Mother?"

She turned to the younger caretaker. "Yes?" the girl flushed, looking down.

"There is a scary-looking man at the door...he wishes to see you."

The woman bristled. "Send Kabuto to my office." she ordered, shuffling towards the main hall that connected the building's layer with the entrance.

Her light, white hair bounced on her shoulders, soft sky-blue eyes taking a stern turn. She chewed on her bottom lip. Upon sighting Orochimaru, she bowed. "You did not join us for dinner."

"I didn't notice the time fly by. My apprentice had an incident and while waiting for her to wake, I lost track of the clock, burying myself in decoding." was the amused response. Orochimaru's ink-black hair lightly glowed under the strong light, his taller frame a beat behind her as she lead him to the chamber he was anyway familiar with. The Sannin's right-hand man was already waiting there, a deceptively serene smile on his face.

"My lord." he greeted evenly, his focus shifting from his master to his adoptive parent. "Mother."

"Good evening, Kabuto." Orochimaru responded simply, pleasantries being one of the things he utterly despised. Nono quickly performed a string of seals, isolating the room utterly and completely. She put down the headpiece she wore, catching her hair in a bun. She discarded her dress, as well, displaying standard jonin garments worn underneath. She sighed, putting the dress on the back of her office chair.

"We can speak freely, now." she assured, seating herself on the desk's top. The two men promptly sat down on the chairs facing the desk. Kabuto pulled out four manilla folders, three buff and one cerulean, from his robes.

He held them for Orochimaru to take. "These contain detailed reviews of my searches, as well as a report on unusual activity outside of Konohagakure's borders. I have located and successfully disposed of five rogue ROOT members so far; I tried prying off information from them before killing them, but it was useless. Their tongues are still sealed. Unfortunately, I could not confirm whether the sealer was Danzo or a replacement. I was, however, able to retrieve what appear to be codded mission scrolls, which you can find sealed within document 57. There are also cards regarding the information you have asked me to retrieve in the blue folder."

Vaguely, the Snake Sannin nodded. He sealed the information away with a hand sign. "Nono."

The woman cleared her throat.

"I have been able to stalk through the archives as you have requested. Spying on your own village, I must say, is rather odd. But I understand the need for secrecy. I retrieved everything I considered useful to the subject, although the archive's keeper – I really am pleased sometimes these bored old ladies are so talkative – has been kind enough to assure me that all files that belong to the ROOT archives are where they have always been. Surprisingly, it turned out to be true. It leads me to say it's suspicious and cannot be trusted. If you would like me to, I can retrieve them, though." she spoke, smile still present but unsure.

Orochimaru nodded. "It wouldn't be a bad thing. We can never know; Danzo was after all an incredibly arrogant man. I wouldn't put it past him to leave correct records behind just to make the challenge harder."

"You are just as arrogant, sometimes, my lord." the lady chuckled. The man mock-glared at her, which only intensified her laughter.

"Please, refrain from comparing me to that slimeball," he simply uttered with a sniff, to which the woman nodded, but still snickered. His smiling face took a more serious expression moments later. "One of Lady Konan's crane summons has reached me yesterday with a message regarding the situation in Kirigakure. Although whoever is the puppet master is clearly not Danzo, the possibility that this person or persons – no possibility is to be ruled out as of yet – might have any sort of collaboration with the rogue ROOT still lingers. Nono...I have to send you out due to this. As for Kabuto, you are to stay here and aid me. Kumogakure has been investigated and I fear that they will strike soon enough. The Byakugan will again, most likely, be either the main or a collateral target. Please look after the Hyuuga Compound; especially Hinata's younger sister."

The woman's smile turned grim, but she nodded nonetheless. Kabuto blinked up at their lord.

"What about Hinata-san's protection?" he inquired, head tilting slightly.

"I will be in charge of that," Orochimaru assured. He looked at Nono. "You are to infiltrate Kumo and keep a close eye on them. Please leave within 24 hours. I expect successful results – and you to come back alive."

"You can be sure of that, my lord. I have the Will of Fire!...And a hard-to-please lord that will likely scold my corpse if I get myself killed," she smiled. "I can hear it; "Useless. You were trained much better than this, Nono! You now made them suspicious of us! And to think you were my left hand woman..." and all of it while frowning me down." she recited, making hilarious imitations of both the Sannin's face and voice. He poked her nose, mock-glaring.

"Now now. You cannot blame me for disliking failure."

She simply laughed, scrunching up her nose much like a rabbit and formally saluting. "I will deploy at dawn, sir. Where do I pick the budget and details at?"

"You and Kabuto drop by my estate for breakfast. Both of you have yet to meet my latest apprentice."

* * *

Mikoto stormed off after giving the boys an earful, forcing them to march after her as she didn't have any umbrella or impermeable cloak at disposal. Itachi picked up the oil paper Hinata and her teacher had forgotten behind, holding it out for his mother to take. At her rising eyebrow, he merely sighed. "Do you really want the three of us to crowd beneath mine?"

She sniffled. "Shisui should walk in the cold rain!" Said man gave his best hurt-puppy look. Mikoto sighed, but grumbling something about stupid men and the mysteries of genes, relented. Thus, the Uchiha matriarch borrowed without the owner's consent the beautiful _ayame_-patterned umbrella, while Itachi and Shisui took shield under the former's large, black one.

"Where is Sasuke?" Mikoto inquired, snot turning to look at the duo walking by her side.

"At Ichiraku's. With his two teammates – and unless Kakashi is too immersed in re-re-re-re-re-re-re-_rereading _Icha Icha Paradise, then he's there, too." Shisui piped up.

The woman nodded, brows furrowed. "So he'll skip dinner..."

"I doubt it," Itachi contradicted. "Ototou doesn't like the dish too much; it's safe to say he'll much more prefer some homemade cooking of his precious mother."

"Alright, then. Shisui, you're coming over for dinner, so that makes four portions." Mikoto chirped, suddenly more enthusiastic.

"I am?" the eldest of the men blinked owlishly. The woman threw him a dark glare. _At least we now know from where did her boys got it_.

"Yes. You might be an idiot, but you're practically the son I didn't give birth to. No way in nine rings of hell I'm letting you go back to an empty house after having been on a tiresome mission."

Shisui wasn't about to tell her he had returned a little before noon, and had already took an impromptu nap on the bathroom floor. So, he smiled sheepishly instead.

"Come along, you two~ someone needs to carry the groceries!" she grinned, a sprint in her step as she guided them toward the marketplace.

**...**

Dinner making employed the two Uchiha men into washing, peeling and chopping various vegetables – Itachi will never be able to look at carrots the same way after Shisui gave his _too honest _opinions about them; he didn't know what was worst: his friend's extremely perverse mind, or the fact that his mother shared his opinions – as Mikoto took care of preparing the meat for the tonkatsu (and laughed at her eldest's expense). Sasuke popped in while they were halfway through (and his mother had just started on frying the seasoned pork fillet) and sighed; no tomatoes this time. He was promptly shooed out of the kitchen by Itachi thanks to the other two "chefs'" perverse behavior at the time. Promptly, the man sighed, wondering if his mother truly had no involvement in his best friend's birth. Sulking, Sasuke informed he'll be in his room.

Shisui was assigned the simple task of boiling the rice properly (task at which he almost failed at), while Itachi was put in charge of stir-frying the vegetables for the chuukadon. Once everything was ready, they set the table, and Mikoto called Sasuke downstairs to eat. Dinner in itself went by with just as much loudness; like it almost always did. Sasuke was visibly sulking at the absence of his beloved fruit slash vegetable, and thus with a sigh, his mother pulled out of the fridge a bowl of cherry tomatoes. Shisui savored the tonkatsu with much gusto, asking for a second and a third serving (it was a good thing his mother cooked enough to feed a small army anytime she got her hands near the stove), while Itachi simply savored the meal and gave up another portion of meat in favor of his preferred dessert – dango. They "migrated" to the living room shortly after for a family-in night. Sprawled on the soft carpet, they eventually all fell asleep on the floor, cushioned by two blankets put one atop the other – _after_ some attire modifications, such as the employment of pajamas and two quilts Itachi remembered to throw over them all before falling asleep to his mother's left, Sasuke unconsciously clinging to him through his dreams. Shisui was on Mikoto's right, his head migrating over the course of the night to rest on the woman's stomach, his feet stretching out and disappearing beneath the coffee table.

Owls hooted strangely in the distance.

* * *

**Author's Footnote**: A biiiiig shout out to _Forever-A-Guest. _That review was truly motivational. :) Lightning chakra is, to me, the most versatile of the five existent affinities. I couldn't pass upon the opportunity and the what if! And, just imagine Hinata-chan's Gentle Step Twin Lion Fists infused with lightning. Sasuke and his Chidori are suddenly not that cool anymore, e? *is evil* Also, sorry that I did not yet display her improvement, my dear Forever-A-Guest! But don't worry, you will have at least seventy chapters' worth of Hinata's rousing from me! Plenty of time for kicking ass, believe it! A shout out to everyone else who reviewed and kept me smilin'. It means a lot when you honestly say what you think, or at the very least let me know you are still reading. Support is what it takes to be greeeeaaaaaat~

Anyho! Sorry for the late update! I wanted to give you guys something long. I am striving to keep all raw chapters (minus footnote and memory piece at the beginning) at least 4000 words from now on, so...AND BEFORE ANYONE SETS ME ON FIRE, I am aware that Haku is in fact a _he _and not a _she_. I used an erroneous manner of depiction consciously. Why? BECAUSE I'M GENDERBENDING THAT PRETTY KIRI NIN. And making him/her an Ame nin...why? Because Konan-san must be lonely in Ame as the only woman in the group...don't worry, Hinata will spend some time there, too, at one point. And Haku's fit for the job.

And yes, I am actually revealing PLOT bits. Gasp! Nono is actually cannon-wise Kabuto's adoptive mama. And I imagine Shisui as serious when the situation requires it, perverse any other day of the week. ;D

_Next time in Asagao to Higanbana: Breakfast in Ame and Konoha; Chuunin Exams: Part One._


	7. Chapter 6

**Author's** **Note**: Nope, I'm not dead! My inspiration kind of was, though. So, with many apologies and some editing of the previous chapters, here comes A to H, Chapter Six! Huzzah.

* * *

_Konan holds Anko as something that's decidedly a violent cold makes her whole frame tremble. She isn't much, really – a git of a girl with a particularly vicious temper – but she's one hell of a fighter. Shizune's soft, charcoal eyes are clouded and dull as her hands glow green and she does her best to fix Anko's broken bones and seal shut her cuts and nurse her bruises from black to eggplant and then blue, and then cerulean (like her hair) and teal and green and -_

_- and she stops at green, because it's too much an effort and she's low on chakra. The silent, mousy girl shuffles away to retrieve pain medication (the only other thing she can do to help ease Anko's misery) and Konan realizes how awkward it is to be the eldest of the female apprentices that are present. Tsunade and Jiraiya are out with Nagato and Yahiko to collect spare firewood and water, and Orochimaru is preparing what looks and smells like tea (and will taste like nirvana) by the fire they've set near the back of the cave they're camping in. Anko is profusely cursing in a hushed, rapid tone beneath her breath, and by the way the brooding Sannin's jaw is set, Konan can tell the man blames himself for the girl's miserable state._

_She never questions the fact that the same man who, once upon a time, proposed to his teammates that they kill her and her two idiots to end their suffering, holds some sort of affection for the plumhead. It's clear enough by the way he looks at her and holds her as she trembles throughout the night, smothering down her hair and cradling her close to his chest, not caring that her white-knuckled grip leaves creases in his perfect, if ragged apparel.  
_

…

_The situation is exceptionally dire, Konan realizes with a grunt and a huff and a hey-rumph! as she hauls Nagato up in a scoop and carries him as if he's a bloody princess. Buddha, she can never thank the heavens enough for the fact the redhead is such a light, slim and slender little thing (except, he still dwarfs her in height, goddamit). She runs to and through trees and leaves behind a trail of ashes – she burns down her assailants – and ignores the slap of the rain against her scalp and face and body. She keeps on running; she has no other option, afterall. Nagato, usually ivory in color, is now alabaster in her grip and his lips are starting to mirror her hair color. She decides she never hated blue quite as much as she does now. She hisses sharply when a twig slaps and snaps upon contact with her tender, bruised ankle._

_She keeps marching on._

_And then, she is surrounded. Over thirty, at least chunin level shinobi if their chakra levels are any indication (though her guess is approximate at best at this point in time with so little sleep to back her up) are circling her as if she's a wild goose and they're starved wolfs. She clenches her teeth to stop herself from growling and all but bites down on her tongue till she feels the familiar taste of copper and iron flooding her mouth. Her chakra is beyond exhausted, and her precious friend and brother in suffering is **dying **in her arms. She isn't in any condition to bloody fight, goddamit tenfold! She freezes there, on a thick and rare and **solid **branch and stills like death itself, waiting for the guillotine to fall and snap her head away from her body in a grotesque spectacle that ends with a fountain of blood leaving the hole in her neck. _

_Death never quite comes._

_Figures with strong chakra circle her, but she breathes in relief when she recognizes two out of three faces (the third wears a Lion mask and ANBU gear). Orochimaru is here with his hench(wo)men. She never quite thought she'll say this when she'll see ink black flowing dramatically, matte regardless of light yet still somehow glowing, but she's so damn glad to see that shady snake come to the rescue like the knight in shining armor that he isn't. And as Anko mutters something insulting, and stupid, and Anko-like, she almost laughs because she needs no knights._

_These steel-wielding creepers are just what's required to get the job done._

_(she later learns the identity of the Lion-mask bearer, and has quite the surprise at the pattern she discovers in the women that surround Orochimaru. perhaps she isn't the only one searching for lookalikes.)_

* * *

**Asagao to Higanbana**

_**Chapter Six**_

_There was blood everywhere. Assailants hidden behind masks – some of cloth, some of chiseled porcelain, some of ceramics shaped to look like legend-worthy demons – were outnumbering the defense forces of the attacked village. Clearly, if the Uzumaki clan's red whirlpool printed on their backs and on their sleeves was anything to go by, the dying men (and women) were Konohagakure shinobi. Silent cries and surprised whines of pain were the only sounds they made as they slipped from this life and into the next, bodies sliced open with cold steel of charcoal-silver color. Children cried in the distance, grim and frightened mothers shushing them and rushing them first into the protective hands of experienced chunin, to be taken to the village hideouts, into safety. Then, once their first and second and third and fourth and fifth borns were entrusted into the care of strangers, they stepped into the second line of defense, fists ready and years of experience reenacting long-dead habits. It didn't matter if you had been a kunoichi or not; everyone had to know how to fight when your village was one of the Grand Five; one of the main fighting forces spread throughout the Five Lands. Konoha might be known for producing tragedies and legends alike – but they are also known for their unanimous something._

_Their unbreakable Will of Fire._

_On top of the Hokage Tower, figures are battling. Hardened, the Third Hokage has his summon, King Enma, faithfully growling at his side. Behind, the Sannin are perched, each unwilling to show mercy. Another defender, far from them and near the gates, is Kisame Hoshigaki. Had his sword not worked in the favor of Uchiha Itachi rather than against the fire-spitting man, any would have mistaken the shark-like individual for a man dressed in a monster, hellbent on burning down Konoha – poetically so, since for Hi no Kuni's pride to be burned down to mere ashes in the blowing wind would be the most ironical and fitting ending. He's fending off summons, grinning with a joy that speaks of his past at the sight of the blood and at the massacre he makes around him. Samehada, unbound, is wiggling viciously, swung both like a katana and a club, bashing and slashing the enemy. Near him, Anko Mitarashi has summoned Manda, a feat Orochimaru praises her for with a stray look he'd let slip._

_Then, the scene goes dark. So dark, that you could cut the black with a knife and eat the slice like a cinnamon-sprinkled vanilla cake._

_Instead of the bloodying grounds of Konoha, the images now display a silent clearing within a forest in Tsuki no Kuni. Mangled and barely looking like himself, the founder of the Akatsuki stares up at the darkening sky with eyes that aren't really seeing anymore. Glazed over, his clear ocean-blue orbs are lifeless – as cold as his body. Open mouth in the beginning (or ending) of a gasp, he looks like a marionette tied with transparent cords that had been dropped hastily, causing the puppet to lay its' body in unnatural angles. The only lively thing about his cooling corpse seems to be his faded indigo garbs, caked in drying, red blood; his orange hair seems lackluster, like a sheet of dust had been lain by ticking time upon it. There, with his traveling cloak rustled by an evening breeze, he looks like a forgotten marionetesque doll on the forest's floor._

_Except, he's not. He's a beautiful tragedy; a cooling corpse, no more, no less._

Konan woke up with a gasp, clutching the sheet that covered the queen-sized bed and the quilt that had fell off of her chest and bundled in her lap as she had rose to sit as soon as her mind grasped for consciousness. The Ame Lady panted, sweat clamming her porcelain skin and rolling in fat beads down her body. She brought her knees up out of reflex rather than consciously, hugging her bent legs close to her chest, gently rocking back and forth like a child scared of thunder during a rainstorm. She rested her chin atop her joints, half-conscious and half-dazed. She chanted a string of _it was only a dream_, willing her head to clear and the hollow, aching pit that formed in her stomach to subside. Willing the claw that squeezed and tugged at her heart to ease its' hold. Willing...willing Yahiko was there to hold her so she knew it was _only _a dream.

It had felt real. It had felt as if she were there, a mere onlooker as the Sannin and their Kage fought off Suna and Kumo and Kiri elite shinobi – as someone landed a lucky blow, tearing Sarutobi's gut open.

As if she was there, mercury eyes staring into the dead sky-like orbs of her lover, abandoned after having been killed, without a doubt, by ROOT, on the forest floor of the insular Tsuki no Kuni.

She stood like that for minutes, replaying the scenes over and over until they temporarily begun to fade and all she saw was blood and black and white. She vaguely realized she woke up in her bed, instead of her office's couch; which possibly meant that Kisame and Anko carried her upstairs. It was confirmed by the feel of cotton on her bare thighs and of silk around her chest and pooling around her stomach. Her senses were much more preoccupied with the sickeningly vivid images that messed in and with her head to care about and wonder who had seen her naked.

She felt the too-familiar bitter taste of bile rise high in her throat, at the base of her tongue, a wave of nausea washing over her. She swallowed thickly, scrambling out of bed, mind still fogged and heavy with remnants of a sleepy haze and endless worries. The "what ifs" seem to plague her more than she had originally thought, she dully notes, gaining full awareness of her surroundings and of all memories rooted to perfection in her mind. She allows a glance at the frog-shaped clock that rests on the side table, its' teal color evident even in the dark (it contrasts with the cerulean of the lamp, but not in a bad sense; rather, it complemented the darker color). It reads 4:48 in the morning. A groan later, the woman realizes something is amiss. Her ears twitch, trying to catch the sound of dripping rain. All she hears is deafening silence. Konan whirls around, silver eyes wide open and worries now forgotten. The window that takes up half the wall both vertically and horizontally displays the suspiciously clear skies beyond, a light arctic blue aurora igniting the horizon faintly.

She scrambles back to the bed, twisting the knobs of the window and pushing the planes apart, opening them wide to take in of the world beyond. Her fascination with a rainless Ame is almost comical. Staying like that, taking in nothing and everything at the same time, she finally scoots back, letting her bottom fall onto the mattress, her posture now a clumsy kneel. She groaned loudly, shuffling and twisting till she laid face first in the feather-filled pillows. She uttered a string of colorful expletives, all profanities that spilled from her mouth muffled by the fabric she spoke them into. She hopped out of bed gracefully once she was done, feeling strangely defiant.

Fuck everything that was going on. On a rare rainless day in Ame, there's no way in hell she's staying in, completing mounts of paperwork and trying to decipher things that make no sense at all, moping over nightmares born from pessimist worries (she'll realize what parts are real and which aren't when it will be too late to do anything about it). She reached for the robe that stood folded on Yahiko's pillow, slipping it on. She shuffled out the door quietly, barefoot on the granite tiled floors. The destination she was aiming for was the only place where the temperature was always warm.

Days and nights in Ame were usually cold – and the heating in the Tower made the temperature be only pleasantly cool; lukewarm, if you will. But, thanks to being almost always in use, the kitchen was generally nothing short of a furnace. The cerulean-haired lady tip-toed her way down corridors and stairways, nodding her head in greeting to the patrolling guards with a small smile. It wasn't unusual for her to be up and about at this hour, but it was unusual for her to not be yet dressed. They greet back, a light blush on her cheeks. She looks down at herself; a blue camisole and white shorts with frog faces scattered on it.

She recalls Jiraiya. And then, instead of his giant grin which had been so comical when he wore that frog costume, she recalls his horrified face at the sight of his own teacher falling on the tiled roof, blood and guts spilling out of his open abdomen. Konan growls, low in her throat, forcing the images back and willing herself to forget them. Just a nightmare given by the fact that three nations are conspiring against Konoha...nothing big. She snorts. _Who the hell am I kidding?_

Reaching the first floor, she enters the kitchen, violet silk flowing around her as the robe she wore was gently pushed and pulled by her movements. She greeted the resting ANBU guards that were cluttered around a large dinning table, putting a kettle on the stove to make tea. As she waited for the sugar-sweetened water to boil, she extended her senses' wavelength, curious to see who was sleeping and who was not. Unsurprisingly, the only chakra signature awake besides her own and those of the guards was Haku's, somewhere on the roof.

She can't blame the girl. Stargazing opportunities in Ame are about as rare as comets. Watching the stars fade into the dawn's light and the sun claim the clouded sky might be a once-in-a-lifetime chance.

Konan turned off the stove, dropping the tea bags inside the kettle and inhaling unconsciously the wonderful scent of mint. She stirred lightly with a spoon, and then put the lid on. A paper clone detached itself silently from the original, disappearing out of the room and to a destination the present ones had no business in knowing. Konan retrieved a tray from one of the cabinets and a set of mugs with cute green frogs painted upon shimmering teal; setting those on the plain white platter, she put the scorching hot kettle next to them. Deciding that anyone would be hungry this early in the day (her own stomach stood witness to that), the cerulean-haired woman also retrieved a jar of cookies from a shelf. Pleased with her impromptu morning treat, she disappeared from the room in a Body Flicker, appearing together with the clone on the tilted, tiled roof.

The clone had a comforter in its' hands. It gently pat the absent-minded Haku on the shoulder, causing the kunoichi to startle and turn around quickly. The two Konan smiled sheepishly at her. "Mornin'."

"Good morning, Konan-san." came the automatic response from the brunette, her body relaxing visibly. The clone laid the comforter around the girl, partly wrapping her in it. It disappeared once the girl was snugly protected from the chilling morning wind. The papers it was build from reformed into a support atop which the cerulean-haired woman laid the tray. She unscrewed the cookie jar's lid with a pop, plopping down beside the younger kunoichi, the snack platter in-between them. Slender, long fingers picked up a chocolate-chip treat and crunched on it. Haku giggled, pouring the hot tea in the funny-looking mugs.

"Can't sleep?" the Ame Lady asked, giving her fellow shinobi a side glance as she chewed. The girl shook her head, long black hair flowing like spilled ink in the breeze and in tempo with her movements.

Her pink, full lips (chapped from being bitten), turned down into a small frown. "Insomnia." she said simply, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Konan nodded, her cerulean hair bouncing lightly around her shoulders, tickling the skin they touched as the wind played through it. With her hair completely down, she looked different, Haku noted; a pleasant kind of different.

Konan didn't comment on the fact that she knew insomnia wasn't the only reason.

"You should take something for it," she suggested, voice barely above a whisper, fingers forwarding to grab a second cookie, "it isn't healthy." Feeling guilty, that is.

Haku dropped small ice cubes into their mugs, speeding up the cooling of the tea to a drinkable level. She giggled lightly. "Says you."

The older woman caught the implied statement and half-smiled, nodding a mute thanks for the tea as she picked up her mug. "Says me."

They sat on the forcibly dried roof in companionable silence, necks craned up slightly to gaze toward the east. The horizon line caught a brighter and brighter glow to the present aureole, signaling the upcoming rise of the sun. Woman and child-woman watched in silence (ruptured only by the hum of the wind, the crunch of munching on sweet treats and the sipping of warm tea) as the midnight blue sky molded into navy and then cerulean shades. And as the sky lightened in color, the charcoal gray clouds that still loomed over the village became more and more evident against the blue airscape they drifted over. The sun rose, red-gold in all its' glory; at first a mere crescent dent on the sky's silkiness which then begins its' ascending into an orb of royal splendor. Violent strokes of deep mauve, vermillion and crimson embed themselves temporarily within the soft cerulean, fading more and more as the sun rose higher and higher, the redness in its' rays melting into pure whitened gold. Gradually, the charcoal clouds softened to joyful puffs of white and light gray, the now light blue sky tinged, barely, with scarce remnants of scarlet. Konan whistled lowly, overlooking her village.

A thin sheet of mist fogged the vision of the metal empire that stretched seemingly at her feet. Far in the distance, mountains she nearly forgotten exist were mere shadows looming on an icing blue background and coated with partially translucent, partially white mist. Amegakure, she decided – knowing that Haku was probably sharing her thoughts – was breathtaking when its' namesake was taken out of the equation. She supposed that the view wouldn't be nearly this spectacular if the rain didn't bathe the village-city so often and in such great quantities. If the sky wouldn't have been such a rare sight, then the red-blue sunrises wouldn't look nearly as striking if you would have had the chance to see them on a daily basis. Things that are rare hold beauty exactly because of the fact that they are rare – the uncommon factor makes the difference.

The Ame Lady watches in awe. Surely, she had the chance to travel around most of the world, see sights others could only witness through pure, raw imagination. She's seen as many dawns as there are days and saw them from every corner of the world. But this is the second time she witnesses sunrise in Amegakure, out of all places. The other one was long, long ago, when she was just a starving orphan pick-pocketing and snatching bread and apples and ham so she wouldn't sleep on an empty stomach, affording from time to time a real bed in a rundown inn instead the cold floor of a random cave in the mountains. These were faraway memories, though, she told herself, a few silvery scars aching in reminder that the memories are not that distant – memories of the days before Yahiko found her. Back then, she hadn't paid attention to it...

But now, neck craned up, she is amazed by the sky. By how surreal and beautiful it is. By how the crescent moon is still in the sky even as the sun has turned vermillion into gold.

The nightmares are momentarily forgotten.

Haku scuttles closer, draping the comforter over both of their shoulders and gluing herself to the older woman's side. Ever since Kisame hunted them down in the Land of Waves and brought them back with him to the Land of Rain, the woman with sky-like hair became something akin to a foster mother to her. Her hands were always gentle, her words always soft and kind – her arms always wide open. While Zabuza had made sure she is as skilled as she is, Kisame's second training program was welcomed. Initially dreadful at the prospect of training "a brat" as he deftly put it, he eventually begun to accept and even like his assigned charge.

And, really, after your own father kills your mother before your eyes and tries to murder you, too – and he woulda've gotten away with it, too, had her instincts not reacted for her and killed him instead – having again something that closely resembles a family, regardless of how dysfunctional it is, was way past her wildest dreams. Konan sighed, again, and snaked an arm around her, letting her messy cerulean locks tangle with her black ones in the fierce wind. They stood like that until the sun completely rose on the sky, neither willing to move, their shared heat too comfortable. Eventually, a cough had to break their musings and sightseeing.

Both turned partly to look at the intruder. Behind them, Kisame stood, an amused grin etched onto his features. His black shirt was stained with various sauces and spices, an obvious clue he had been recently cooking. He looked funny, Haku decided, in sweatpants. You almost couldn't classify him as a former Swordsman of The Mist; nor as someone with power that made him a possible candidate for a Kage position. "Will you two join us at breakfast, or would you like me to bring your plates here? You seem to be rather cozy." he asks, arms crossing over his broad chest.

Konan blinks. "Breakfast?"

Kisame laughs. "It's almost six-thirty. Anko leaves early, so we moved up the schedule. Hidan almost chopped her hand off for it."

"He really isn't a morning person, is he." Haku mused, her features creeping into a smile.

"Nope." the man responded, popping the "p".

Konan sighed. "We're coming," she muttered.

* * *

"-nata. Hinata-chan...?"

A hand shook her shoulder gently; the touch was light, feathery. The warmth of the foreign appendage invaded her skin pleasantly through the rather light fabric of the mauve shirt she wore. Sleepily, Hinata snuggled deeper into the pillow, wriggling around beneath the quill and blanket that covered her to get more comfortable. "Five more minutes, Kurenai-sensei..." she mumbled, words slurring as they left her mouth. She sniffed for effect, inhaling the pleasant scent of sandalwood and mint, combed with undertones of vanilla and cinnamon and one thing she couldn't quite name. She inhaled again, enjoying the rich scent.

Then, amidst the softness of the silk sheet beneath and the satin quill dressing above, Hinata's eyes slowly creaked open. She blinked the haziness in them away, taking in the foreign room, a wave of uneasiness washing over her. She shrunk deeper into her makeshift fabric nest, peering over the rich green toward the form of the person that was trying to shake her awake moments earlier. The woman had snow-white hair and smiling, light arctic blue eyes. Her hair was caught in a messy bun nearly atop her head; she wore a black shirt with a V cut that clung snugly to her petite frame, the bell sleeves of the garment swallowing her arms down to the tips of her fingers. A white haori with no sleeves was wrapped on top, tied at the waist with a wide blue obi. She looked harmless enough, though who knows what the kindness behind her eyes hides? Hinata swallowed thickly. Nono – for she was the woman – chuckled lightly.

"Relax. I'm not here to harm you, Hinata-chan~. Orochimaru-sama has sent me to fetch you for breakfast." the lady's voice rung out, soft and soothing. Motherly.

Hinata blinked, timidly sitting up. She drew the covers up to her chin, folding her knees to her chest and curling into an upright ball. "U-um..."

Nono laughed, ruffling the girl's navy-indigo hair. "My name is Nono Yakushi. I am a somewhat friend of your sensei, as well as a former subordinate of his."

"U-um. Um...P-pleased to meet you..." the girl shyly responded, slightly uncertain, rather enjoying the woman's warmth. Nono grinned, standing up and extending her hand to help Hinata out of the bed.

"Don't worry about the sheets," she added, noticing Hinata's lingering gaze on the large oak bed. "Orochi rarely sleeps in a bed, anyway. He rather enjoys house chores, too." she assured, leading the shy girl downstairs through a maze of corridors. Her hand, warm and soft – calloused here and there – never left the girl's. For some reason, it gave Hinata a sense of security. She felt oddly serene.

The haze of sleep lingering at the corners of her mind might have had something to do with it.

Nono is quite tall, Hinata notices as they walk hand in hand, and slenderly built. Even if the long sleeves conceal her arms, her long fingers remind her of Tsunade's. They are the fingers of a medic, the girl thinks, and half-smiles. Her legs are shaped from training, long and curvy; she said she was a subordinate of Orochimaru's – _was_, she unconsciously corrected herself – and that must have meant she had been or still is a ninja. Her fluffy purple socks, speckled with pink dots, Hinata decided, looked funny when compared to the woman's bare feet. Marine blue coated her toenails (and fingernails, the girl noted as a side thought). She was very, very pretty. Where does the curiosity come from, she isn't sure. It might have something to do with the fact that her teacher is a mystery to her. A puzzle she'd love to solve; after all, it's unfair he knows her like the back of his hand whereas she isn't privy to much information regarding him. The girl purses her lips together; how much time has she been Orochimaru's pupil for? Nearly three months, since it's August and they begun her training in mid-May. She didn't feel too improved, even if she caught herself by surprise sometimes at how quick her reflexes seemed to have gotten. Tsunade was pleased with her chakra control's range, too, as well as her being a "natural" at channeling her energy (apparently. she wonders sometimes who's lying; them or her father? she really hopes he is) They were training her to be a killer. Somehow, she couldn't make herself mind.

She knew she'd have to kill when she was given to the Academy. It seemed faraway, back then. But now, she knew she could probably do it without hesitation. Because a voice closely resembling her teacher's would whisper, "_Kill or be killed. End them before they end you. Don't think too much and simply strike; you have people to come home to._" She still couldn't quite believe how simple he made taking a life look when he said that to her on numerous occasions. What was more frightening was that she was painfully aware by how right it was. She had to survive. Her stomach grumbled loudly. Hinata blushed, mortified, all dark thoughts dispelling, back to the shadowed corners where they stemmed from. Surviving apparently implies eating, something she hadn't done in quite a while. Nono chuckles, good-naturely as always.

They enter the kitchen. She hadn't really paid much attention to the rooms they passed by, but the corners of her eyes had caught the pleasant, if odd combination of styles. Orochimaru seemed to prefer wood and soft fabrics; artwork and carvings. The kitchen had marble tiling on the floor, the walls covered up to the ceiling in plaques of polished mahogany. Spacious, with two large windows creaked open; the wonderful scent of a breakfast in the making drifting in the air, accompanying the dust and tea and spices scent that seemed to linger throughout the house. Orochimaru wore his normal Jonin attire, minus the vest. His long, inky pitch-black hair was pulled back into a high, tight ponytail, and he was slouching forward over a stove. Sleeves rolled up, he was flipping pancakes in a large pan, a jar of chocolate cream opened nearby on the counter, a platter with numerous pancakes laid out on it next to the glass container. A boy that somewhat resembled Nono sat at the dinning table, a cup of linden tea in-between his fingers. He looked up upon their arrival, giving a soft, crooked smile. "Good morning," Kabuto saluted easily, a certain curiosity in his black eyes. Nono helped Hinata into a chair before settling next to the snow-haired young man. The oldest individual in the room watched the exchange carefully from the corner of his eye.

"Hinata-chan, this is my son, Kabuto. Strange name, we know." the woman politely introduced, laughing girlishly with a hint of a smirk in the corners of her lips. Hinata blinked.

Orochimaru turned off the stove, setting sets of plates at the table. Omelet and pancakes, a side of tomatoes and cheese for the first, chocolate filling for the latter. "Kabuto is Tsunade's right-hand man at the hospital. Nono used to be the head of it, before Tsunade was coaxed into returning to the village, and before she left the shinobi ways. She is in charge of Konoha's orphanage, currently." he supplied, setting down next to his youngest pupil. "They both had training periods under my counseling, much like you." he added with a crooked smile. The girl was at a loss of words, so she merely nodded her head to the duo, a light blush on her cheeks. "Eat," the man instructed further, "Kurenai wants you at 10 on the usual training grounds. Since we've had circumstances, I'll be present to your team training today."

She looked at him, somewhat mortified. "I...I a-apologize." she stammered, and he could feel her urge to poke her index fingers together. Orochimaru pinched her nose.

"You have nothing to apologize for, silly girl." he chided, half-serious. "You can't really manipulate weather; and nobody can really manipulate Uchihas when they're being odd."

A mutual chuckle was shared at the table. Hinata relaxed, nodding gratefully at her teacher. Within the passing hour, she learned that the two guests – she dubbed them the "White Duo", her consciousness snickering at the silly nickname – were bickering like two old men, and learned that Orochimaru's cooking was absolutely delicious.

* * *

The kitchen was full; stray guards picking a breakfast to serve on the go – courtesy of Kisame being such a bloody mother hen – and the residents of the Tower noisily beginning to serve a breakfast which, according to Hidan, was set _too fucking early_. "Seriously," the Jashinist muttered, nursing an absurdly huge mug of coffee without a grain of sugar in it, "it's too fucking early to even _breathe_, let alone eat."

"Language, Hidan. There _are _children at the table, you know." Konan commented evenly, plopping down on her usual chair. Haku slid on hers, in-between Konan and Zabuza. Kisame turned off the stove with a knob twist and a click, setting down with a sigh on the cerulean-haired woman's other side. The Jashinist snorted.

"Yeah yeah. Like they ain't heard cussin' before." he dismissed, digging into his half-raw steak. Karin curiously took in everything, hardly moved as she sat sandwiched between the "Zombie Brothers".

"While that is not false, it doesn't make it any less unpleasant, Hidan-san." she uttered, soft and even, empty. A magenta eye fixed her. She stared back, seemingly bored.

"You're one fucked-up kid, girl." the immortal albino responded, no malice in his voice. Halfheartedly, the Uzumaki girl gave him a crooked, loopsided grin.

"Tell me something that I don't already know." she whispered, more to herself, before cutting in slices her omelet and chewing meticulously. Konan's quicksilver eyes expressed sorrow.

The Ame Lady sighed, drinking some of the apple juice Kisame had put on the table for her. "I think that's valid for all present," she said. Next to her, the shark-like man laughed heartily.

"That's why we're here. No use moping about what we can't change, Konan-san." he commented. Haku nodded, mutely, looking up at Zabuza through her lashes.

"It doesn't matter that we're...not normal," she slowly added, smiling brilliantly at Karin, "because even misfits can find a place where they fit in."

Anko promptly stabbed the table.

"Enough of this depressing talk," she whined, "I have a monster headache and you're not helping."

Kakuzu scoffed. "That's what you get for drinking sake half the night with Hidan, woman."

Konan snorted. Trust Anko to kick back and relax in the middle of a goddamn cold war. She's envious of her best friend's recklessness, to be honest. _Orochimaru really rubbed off on her, didn't he._

And then she's horrified at the unintended pun. _Damn it_, she inwardly curses; "Don't be such a nit-pick, Kakuzu. Alcohol is created for the purpose of consuming. We have plenty."

"That's beside the point...Konan-san." the old man immediately defends. She quirks her lips into a smirk.

"Really now?"

He knows better than to bite back.

Breakfast is done and Kisame washes the dishes, content with the mediocre normalcy housekeeping chores bring him. It's odd, really, no matter how often you see him looming about the kitchen, his massive frame stained with oil and sauces and _not _blood; and, somehow, refreshing. Konan is extremely pleased her boys (_she likes referring to them as such; a side effect of not being a mother in body – she likes to play pretend, much like the shark-like mother hen_) find relief in domestic activities. That they all feel they belong. Anko can tell this with one brown-eyed, lazy glance at the other woman's glowing, contagious happiness. Orochimaru must have been aware of the lack of females in Akatsuki; or was it pure accident he'd made her bring the Uzumaki lass here, to? Wait, no, it _is _a fortunate coincidence (_or side benefit; coincidences never mix in with the snake man_). The girl is Uzumaki Shun's only child – the one he conceived before he left for his final battle. The girl is an orphan; mother died giving birth to her -

Shit. _Stop memorizing information you'll hardly need_, she chides herself, following Konan – still in her pajamas – into her spacious office. Konan occupied her beloved armchair; Anko, as a not-normal person, chose to seat herself on the desk. Not that the cerulean-haired woman minded, honesty be used. The Ame Lady's happiness fell, the bags beneath her eyes suddenly intensifying in shade. The plumhead felt a cold chill crawl up her spine, cooling her marrow, freezing her blood and slowing her heartbeat. Konan closed her eyes, curling into her seat in a fetal position. "I'm scared."

It was an admission. An honest-to-God admission. And Anko was at a loss of what to do. So, she circled her arms around her friend when minutes later Konan flung herself into her chest. "I'm scared, Anko," she repeated, the whisper so soft she barely caught it. The plumhead's hold tightened, if only a little. The question was out of her mouth, past her rose lips, before she had the time to even _think _it.

"Why?"

Konan took a deep intake of breath, oxygen and the scent of vanilla and cinnamon and lily-of-the-valley nestling in her tired lungs. "Because a full-out war might start in a few weeks. At best, in one and a half month from today onward." she admitted, voice still soft, still broken; still a murmur in her confidant's chest. Anko stroked her cerulean locks with her right hand, fingers threading through the hairs.

"You're scared we'll die," she stated, who _we _consisted of clear enough even for the deaf and blind. The Ame Lady nodded, slowly. "We won't."

The bluenette almost growled. "You can't know for sure!" she exclaimed, the barest of increase marring her hushed tone.

"I do, toad," Anko rebutted, rolling her eyes out of habit, "Because the greatest of minds are taking care of the defense. We. Won't. Die." she firmly said.

Konan unlatched herself, loosely. She looked up at her best friend, tears gleaming in her quicksilver eyes. Anko briefly froze.

_Konan never cries. Konan doesn't cry. She practically lost the ability to._

(that's how much she had cried)

"I had a dream," the blueberry head confesses. "Vivid. It felt real, Anko," she almost whines, still whispering, the desperation in her voice almost palpable. "I _smelt _the blood of Yahiko's _mangled_, _cold corpse_, and of Sarutobi-san's _spilling_ _guts_." she says; her consciousness could only hold the nightmare's memory at bay for so long. At a loss of words, Anko just pulls her back into her chest, arms secure around her upper body.

"It'll be okay," she murmurs, willing a cheery note in her voice that makes her nausea worsen; she could practically see the horrid images herself, now. "It'll be okay."

She wonders why, _Kami's name be blessed, _does she doubt her own certainty. Konan prays to the sky it was all only _just_ a dream.

Just a horrible, horrible dream.

* * *

_Thud. Thud. Crack!_

Itachi splits the egg in the middle, letting both the glair and the yolk fall into a ceramic bowl. He mixes it with a spoon, letting salt and herb dust fall into the mix, and then empties the concoction into the sizzling pan. Simple and nice, almost over-done – just like Sasuke likes it. He takes another round of eggs and repeats the procedure, keeping an eye on the pan as he goes. Three repetitions later, he cuts up slices of meat into cubes and throws them in two of the mixes; for Shisui and for his mother (_his best friend will never let his mother live down the fact that she likes __**meat –**__ and she'll always respond with a dirty innuendo veiled gracefully; Uchiha Madara would be proud of his correspondent, Itachi thinks; Uchiha Mikoto was, in her youth, __said to be __what a female Madara __would __have __been like_), while his is spiced with herbs, just like Sasuke's. Behind him, at the round dinning table, his friend and his brother yawn in unison. The youngest son of Fugaku and Mikoto fixes his sleeping hat, and Shisui smirks at the _duck _pattern that covers it.

"It's so nice watching you cook for me, Ita-chan~" the man dreamily sighs. Itachi half-groans.

"I always cook for you, Shisui, because the last time you went near a fire with the intent to prepare a meal, we had to run away from a burning forest."

His long time friend sulks with a pout. Mikoto's eldest laughs, his little brother snorting his agreement.

The omelets are done sizzling. He puts the pan away in the sink, letting it there to scrub it clean later. A different pan replaces it; pancake batter is dropped into it once the oil-rubbed bottom is warm enough for his taste. "What fillings do you guys want?" he asks, back to the usual monotone. Shisui and Sasuke turn contemplative.

"Chocolate," his best friend decides. Sasuke makes a disgusted face.

"Strawberry jam for me, I guess." the twelve-year-old shrugs, "The one with the lighter sugar concentration."

Itachi nods. Blueberry jam for his mother and chocolate for himself, then. "Shisui, go wake Mother. Sasuke, wash your hands."

Sasuke sighed, doing as he was told, like the good little brat he was. Shisui, on the other hand, groaned. One simply didn't woke the matriarch up and got away unscathed.

So, as quietly as he could – fully, wholeheartedly silent – he shuffled out the door and down the corridor to the living room, freezing briefly in the doorway to take a moment's contemplation of the slumbering woman.

Mikoto was snoring softly, rose lips parted ever-so-slightly, breath with a touch of cranberry scent woozing out from in-between. Her white tank-top was lifted a good amount, revealing a surprisingly toned stomach with skin too pale. The elastic waistband of her wine red pants hung low on her hips, her navel being exposed. The blankets that covered the four Uchiha the night before were tangled with her limbs, one foot twitching in the slightly chilly morning air that streamed through the cracked-open window. Navy-blueberry hair spilled gloriously around her, glowing softly in the shadowed light; Shisui blinked slowly, tip-toeing into the room. The Uchiha matriarch was a superb woman, even if she was forty-four in terms of age. He gently, hesitantly touched her bare shoulder. Her warm skin was searing hot against his cold palm.

Mikoto's eyes shot open, and before he had the slightest chance to register what was happening, she rolled them around until he thudded mutely against the makeshift mattress, the older woman straddling him, her hand clutching the side of his neck tightly. She blinked owlishly, rapidly, her iron grip softening. He stared up at her, his skin coloring lightly with a rosy flush. She blinked, again, her brain processing information sluggishly.

There was scent of scrambled eggs – omelet – and pancakes in the air. Sunlight rained down on her through the crack in the curtains and she closed her eyes, then squinted, her pupils still too dilated to deal with the blasted sunglow. Something warm, and hard, and fleshy was cushioning her bottom. Something with a pulse was in-between the fingers of her right hand. She blinked her eyes open, and looked down. Shisui stared back at her, mortified. She thought about rising and sparing him the awkwardness. But she decided he was a comfortable seat, so she settled on staying were she was, her grip on his throat loosening. "'sui?"

He swallowed thickly. "G-good morning, Mikoto."

"Morning," she greeted back, a somewhat smile on her damp-carmine lips.

Shisui swallowed, again. "Breakfast is ready." She gave a happy grunt, and rose to her feet at long last. Her hand – the same she used to strangle him with – shot forward, helping him up. Mikoto fixed her clothes, nonchalantly marching with as much elegance as someone with "dead feet" can muster, to the kitchen. Behind her, the younger Uchiha male grumbled something about needing to stop having weird daydreams regarding women that might as well be his mother(s). Mentally, the Uchiha matriarch snickered at his expense, thinking she still had the same charm.

Itachi just shook his head at them, somehow knowing what had transpired – as innocently as it did, sans the unspoken innuendos – and gave his best friend at glare that read,

_We'll talk later about this, young man_,

in Itachi's best old man accent. He almost snickered.

Sasuke swore that they're all bonkers, commenting nothing as he stabbed happily at his first meal of the day. Yum, eggs and herbs and _tomatoes_.

Oh, God, the tomatoes.

"Heaven tastes like your cooking, Nii-san."

Itachi chuckled. Mikoto peered at her younger son with curiosity and the beginning of a sulk. Sasuke felt guilty.

"Don't worry, mother, yours is still the best," he adds, and Mikoto smiles so brightly it outshines the sun, if only for a nanosecond.

The domestic scene is oddly a common sight. And, like always, something has to break the peace.

"We need to go see Hinata-chan today," the matriarch speaks, eyes glancing at the patterned oil paper umbrella, "so Shisui can apologize and I can see if there's a need for damage control."

They swallow thickly, and none is sure they're that hungry anymore. Sasuke remembers his father clearly – a little bit too clearly for his taste, occasionally. And, as far as he knows, he's quite sure Fugaku was just like Hiashi. He feels like crap when a fleeting thought reflects happiness at the fact the man vanished one day from their lives and was reported dead. Otherwise, he might've given up, just like Hinata.

And he's quite sure something desperate would have been done by the two adults at the table (plus Shisui) if he would have wound up only half as broken as the meek, navy-indigo haired girl.

* * *

Anko exits the shower cabin, a wet puddle forming beneath her feet on the white tiles. Naked as the day she was born on, she grabs a fluffy towel from a nearby rack and haphazardly wraps it 'round her body. She enters the bedroom – _her bedroom, really; Konan always puts her here when she's around, since she's aware she likes its' earthy tones of decoration (the green screams home to Anko) –_ and doesn't bother to startle when she finds the Lady of Amegakure sprawled on her mattress, still in her sleepwear, still in distress. The plum-haired woman gives a mute sigh, shaking her shaggy, spike-edged, wet hair.

A cold breeze enters through the wide open windows and the two women shiver.

"You're reading too much into a cold war and into the weather, Konan," Anko states, and checks to see if the door is properly closed before beginning to dry her skin. She has some sort of decency, after all.

The Ame kunoichi sighs, frustratedly. "A cold war that is bound to break into a very warm, very bloody one. My paranoia regarding rain and omens is just a bonus."

"You're jumpy." Anko airily notes, now drying off her legs. She quietly, begrudgingly pulls on underwear – green, unsurprisingly – and then a pair of black capri pants.

"And you're a bitch," the cerulean-haired woman responds in a deadpan. Anko snickers, clasping her bra in place and sneaking into a mesh shirt. She seats on the bed, and hands her friend the slightly damp towel. Konan begins to dry off her hair, and the plumhead leans into her, sighing like a woman who's past one hundred years old.

"Be optimistic, Konan. It's the only thing we can do, aside of making sure we're cautious. Hell, _Orochimaru _is being cautious. And you know how he is."

Somehow, the woman with sky-like hair can't find arguments to that. The Konoha kunoichi – her friend, she mentally chides herself – is right. As annoying as that fact is, she _is right_.

Konan says nothing. Her hands press down the fuzzy, fluffy white towel with light force, fingers rubbing the fabric in circles on the almost imperceptibly shorter woman's scalp. Her limbs work reflexively, machinally; the touch is light and gentle, nonetheless. Anko doesn't have to see her face to know she bears a faraway look in her eyes. She's part glad she can't see, because the sadness she knows the Angel of Amegakure holds printed on her features would break whatever is left of her heart. There are certain people Anko would rather die than see them cry; unsurprisingly, Konan is one of them. The cerulean-haired woman finally whispers, her voice small, much too childlike and far too afraid, "Must you really go now? I mean, yes, the Chunin Exams _are _coming up, but you could go back when Kisame and the others deploy."

_Don't leave me alone, Snakey_, goes unsaid. Anko sighs. "I'm sorry. I have clear orders. I can't deter from my instructions." _You aren't alone, stupid toad_, is something the plumhead doesn't add.

Again, the cerulean-haired woman falls silent. She moves her hands deftly, almost as she does when she folds her paper into deadly artwork. They hold and rub and create friction, and she relaxes as Anko's plum-violet hair goes from wet to damp to dry beneath her fingertips. She feels as if they were children again, camping away from a thunderstorm in a cave, Jiraiya snoring loudly by the fire with Nagato and Yahiko on either side and Orochimaru lurking in the shadows of the entrance, keeping watch. Konan admits that, at times, she can see what Anko sees in the snake-like man. He is undoubtedly an unusual person, and creepy to a point – but he is a man with a heart warmer than the sun, once you can dissect the shadows that encase him and the realistic facades he's put up 'round himself. That, Konan understands and everyone who knows the man at least a quarter of how much she does (which isn't much but isn't little, either) can agree with. It's obvious by his thoughtfulness even when subjected to the adrenaline of the momentum. Carpe diem is somewhat a motto for the oxidized-gold-eyed man, but he still cares enough to make sure none dies because he's being reckless and the same old sadistic bastard he's always been. He's powerful like God and beautiful like a demon.

An oxymoron.

But at other times, she wonders why. Why does Anko worship this man so much she's willing to be content with being his tool and not his woman. Somehow, she's become a mix of both over the years. And still, Orochimaru hadn't bothered to put a ring on her finger or make their relationship public. It bothers Konan, because even if she's sure the man hadn't done with malevolent intent – and sure he isn't using Anko, but rather that they're playing one of their many wicked games – she'd still like to have the safety of knowing the plumhead will never have her heart broken by the one person she can truly say she'd sell herself to occultism for.

It also bothers her because thanks to wanting to return to his side (like a faithful, loyal watchdog – or watchsnake, in this case, she thinks and almost breaks a smirk at it –), Anko has to leave _her _side.

And it would be nice if for once she could have another adult woman around that can hold her own against the rowdy _boys – _or kids, in Hidan and Deidara's cases – because as placating as Haku is, she isn't still quite the authority she will be, and that renders her a little handicapped and paralyzes Konan in terms of aid. She's selfish, she knows, but wishful thinking isn't banned through any sort of law. And God, the nightmares.

She's a role model when it comes to the young assassin. And even if nightmares_ do_ give them some common ground, she has at least six years of pain left until she can openly cry in Haku's presence and not feel like _shit _for being _openly pathetic_ in front of a person that practically idolizes her. And even so, Anko's arms are what she's used to having wound around her form when a particularly bad nightmare makes her upset and gives her a minor panic attack – and it's Anko's heartbeat that lulls her from distress to equilibrium, like a switch being flicked, a coin tossed or a clock resat. Which is strange, since not even Yahiko has that sort of effect.

Maybe it's because Anko vaguely resembles the mother she's lost so long ago yet vividly recalls; war casualty. Just another name turned to number and then added to an ever-growing pile.

The plumhead's hair is finally dry. She hops out of bed with the ease and the grace a cobra helds as it hisses and bites, and pulls over the mesh a brick red shirt with elbow-length, somewhat loose sleeves. She stretches, like a stray cat in the morning, and grabs a hairbrush before settling back into her previous seat and handing the item to Konan. The cerulean-haired woman relents with the ghost of a smile on her lips and roll of her eyes; some things never change. Konan will always cry in Anko's arms (because Jiraiya's will never feel as comforting as they did, but rather well her up to the brim with shame and the feeling she's disappointing him – stupid, damned pride), and Anko will never grow up. Growing up, in the purplenette's case, has never meant the loss of innocence. The Lady of Amegakure truly doubts her friend (best friend; they've been through war and pain and everything together, and know eachother better than anyone will ever do) has ever had any innocence to begin with. Growing up in an orphanage tends to do that to you. You lose any shard of naivety you posses even before you are aware you have it buried somewhere inside you. That, Konan is painfully aware of. So, she brushes those plum locks of rebellious hair, and mildly feels like the teenager she should have been but never had the chance of being. If Anko could read minds, she'd get a slap,

_'Cause normality is so fucking boring, ya stupid toad!_

She snickers and Anko is curious as to what amuses her. The plum-haired kunoichi never gets an answer, even as her boot clad feet carry her out of Amegakure's gates and onto a depressingly solo journey back home. Damn, she misses the kids' stupid banter. Anything to have the silence shattered. Sadly (fortunately) no bandits and no ROOT agents cross her path. Anko clicks her tongue in annoyance, slapping the wet muscle against the roof of her mouth with a clap, and vaguely hopes Konan will stop being such a worrywart, and fend off her nightmares, as she cusses the horridly humid weather in The Land of Rain.

* * *

**Author's Footnote**: Missed me, folks? No? Okay...

Back to communicating with lovely reviewers and to cleaning some things up. XD My dear _Forever-A-Guest_, I am indeed of the female kin. Most of the time. I seem to turn into some sort of homicidal bunny during a certain week at the beginning of every month. Well, cannon-wise, Amegakure is into the hands of the Akatsuki, more or less. With an accent on _more or less_. Of course they are. XD I love Haku and Zabuza, so I couldn't have the heart to let them die. :o3 Konan is obviously the leader because I am a convinced feminist and Naruto, Kishi-sensei's version, is pretty sexist. Then again, since it's a shounen, it could have been so, so much worse...*shudders* And we need more fem! powah in the 'verse, dattebayo!

*coughs awkwardly* ...they can't freeze me? Are you _s__uuuuuure_? Because trust an expert, ice burns are more of a bitch than those made by fire. *shudders redux* Good thing Gai-sensei has inspired the Flames of Youth within me, ne? (god, this sounds wrong, even by my standards). And Hina-chan is going to have a lot of female friends, with time, because there are lots of amazing women in Naruto. Ino, Tenten, Temari...xD And of course, my dear, dear Haku. *glomps said ice user*

ROOT is always the cause of trouble. I guess you could say...that they're the _root of the problem_.

Bad pun, I know, shame on me.

Nono, when I first saw her, had me thinking, _Shit, she's basically adult, ROOT'd version of Hinata, minus dark hair_. For that particular reason, she will have an influence not only strategically in the action plotline of Konoha, but also in the drama plotline of Hinata's personal life beyond the realm of shinobi life and into more...human matters. Hinata, you see, will have a pot of mothers instead one of kittens. Nono is one of these maternal influences I'm "gifting" her.

She is indeed the head of his spy network, and one of his most gifted hench(wo)men. XD And, well, while Kabuto lacks identity issues, he still has sadism in him - because he's a student of Orochimaru, in the end, and one simply isn't one of Orochimaru's apprentices without liking torture (*cough* and possibly bondage *cough*). But no such thing as traitor-thoughts. He's Orochimaru's loyal underling, and if Orochimaru says Konoha needs protection, then he will put his ass on the line for it, 'cause _Orochimaru-sama said so_. Am I giving the Snake Sannin too much charisma? And thank you! I love the Uchihas. I like presenting them as complete opposites of the stiff Hyuuga, and humor in the home is the best way to do so. XD I look forward to your youthful glomp, my dear! And I love chu too, for loving mah "saga". :3

And, since someone, namely _RomanticKissez _was curious as to who the villains are and what has happened to Fugaku, I gave a bit of insight. Don't let yourself fooled, though. I stated in the summary everything Sasuke knows proves to be a lie...will his father's death prove to be a lie, as well? Maybe. Yes, and no, and depends, and probably, and I don't know. And - you'll have to keep lurking 'round to find out. Another thing before this novel-sized note ends: there will be no romantic interaction between Hinata and anyone in the near future. Accordingly, I have removed the genre and replaced it with Humor. It fits better, don'tcha say?

Thanks for reading, people, and for putting up with me. I am super-duper-mega sorry for the nearly one-month long wait. Life is a bitch, as you may know, and it decided to be as rabid as ever with me.


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